Emotional Recuse

I sit here at my computer, late Thursday morning, and I could and maybe want to write many things here at Couch Surfing that – even me hearing them as I consider the words – would sound like feeling sorry for myself. I don’t want to do that because that’s not how I feel. I do not feel sorry for myself. My head hurts and my body hurts and my life is for sure akimbo, and just as surely my soul and child-like mind has been filled with wonder and blessing and possibilities I could never have imagined. And folks have come from the deep woodwork of my life and they have said – individually, collectively – we love you Bro, and we’ve got you and you’ve been working on the accepting help thing so let us help. And I have and I’ve been just filled up with gratitude. Really filled up. Fucking crazy amazing.

But, as I said a few sentences back, well, I was thinking it while I wrote what I wrote and I was thinking it more clearly on a very early morning walk six hours ago, and it’s that with all the feelings I’ve been feeling these last now seven plus weeks – since the wife said I no longer want you, or want you here – over the last five or six days the energy of those feelings has waned. Clearly any feelings of tiny fear or broken-heartedness, of being blown away by the abundance of kindness, of having to bite my tongue when words – words without graciousness and so, without worth – bubble to my lips. All these feelings have have been turned down, from high to simmer – good, bad, the physical discombobulations. Turned down.

I began noticing it a couple of days back, not so much auto pilot because I’d be truly screwed – as would my son Spenser – if I was coasting. The clock rushes along and the days dwindle and I’ll be out of here before you can say next week, Spenser on my heels. No — now and all these weeks my keto-brain has been firing on nearly all cylinders and the daily long “To Do” lists get attention and devotion and necessary act gets crossed off one by one. So, it’s not I’ve been checked out. I think it may be more a case of being used up – not all the way, like I just said, there are real needs which need all of me. No, it’s the feelings part, which were electric and remarkable and wicked and super-charged from April 14 and right through to a few days back. And then I noticed I wasn’t feeling so much any more. Not so much of anything.

I don’t think this is bad, it doesn’t feel foreboding or, really, even concerning. It just is what it is. Maybe it’ll be way different come next Tuesday and Wednesday and a week from today. Probably absolutely for sure come the first of July. Just here now, this morning, I’m not feeling a whole lot.

And, by the way, if there’s a bit of a “Stones” quality to the title of this post, almost a misspelling, they’re not my thing. Never have been. Except “Memory Motel”. Yeah, that’s a truly good one. I think I’ll play it now. See what comes up.