"I'm not sure about her motives"

There are a lot of things I don't say here.  (however, I do say that I don't say them a lot).  It feels ugly to say things about people who might read this that I haven't said to their faces.

 

Conversely, writing here on dreamwidth brings me something that offline journaling doesn't.  And I should probably start making some entries private, to loosen my tongue a little bit.  I've always been mildly obsessed with the idea of bearing witness.   In darker times, I thought it meant that I wasn't ever going to have my story, my job was just to be the spectator, and in times darker still I wasn't 100% sure I existed if I wasn't being looked at.   I kept wanting to step into traffic then, just to see if the car would hit me, because that was proof I existed.  

 

(yeah, the combination of situation, genetics, meds, alcohol and CPTSD meant college wasn't a great time for me)

 

But theoretical you reading doesn't to make me real, I figured out how to do that for myself.  I just like the idea of sending things out into the universe.  If everything I believe about divinity is in the connections, maybe this is my act of worship.

 

And sometimes I want to say here all the things I'm not saying to people's faces, because I'm too much of a coward, or feel like it would be too unkind or because despite the leaps and bounds I've made, I still don't want to make a fuss.  It's weird and it's tragically unweird the things that sank into my bones to stay.  

 

I always thought that the baby on board signs were to warn all the other cars that they had to be extra careful drivers because of the precious infant inside the car.  Now I realize it's more of a warning to everyone else on the road that the driver might at any point in time be subjected to ear piercing screams or things being thrown from the back seat and that sort of stimuli might impede the driver's skill at driving.  

 

I have socialed all over the place these past couple weeks, and it's kind of delightful.  I'm still awkward like a gigantically awkward thing, but it feels like a triumph and I need all of those I can get.

 

Trick or treating seems to be over.  Not a lot of children, but it was pretty blustery.  and now the dog is on the couch, exhausted from her own nonsense and I think I might head to bed way early due to a giant fucking scary appointment tomorrow morning in the way-too-early part of the day.