day11 - small joys
dear luci,
i have felt particularly guilty— even altogether resistant to joy, lately. comfort is one thing, but joy feels... wrong. there's a cognitive dissonance baked in to this experience, "well, hold on, things feel so intense and sad, it feels inappropriate to be carefree and joyful, even for a little bit."
i have withdrawn from people, left messages on read, and responded to some people with a curtness uncharacteristic of me. this is comfortable. i get to focus on my situation whilst drifting away from people whose closeness, in my traumatised paranoia, has previously felt dangerous. get too close, care too much, risk being hurt. but don't get me wrong: there are also a couple of people who I just can't be fucked talking to (and if you're reading this, it's probably a good sign that you're not one of those.)
nonetheless, the flower cannot help but grow towards the sun. i have found happiness, mostly in isolated moments but occasionally in longer interactions. this morning, for example, i felt very tired and flat. i met someone for breakfast and i could feel myself putting up walls straight away. but very rapidly those walls came down. i won't recount the morning as i firmly believe some magical moments are worth keeping between two people. but it felt like the sun had come out again. my footsteps had been heavy and effortful, but now they were a little lighter.
and that's all you can really do, I suppose. it helps to have those moments to break you out of your own head. remind yourself that isolation kinda sucks. you're not a bad person for finding small joys in the midst of a troubled time. that's refreshingly human. in that impulse you are linked to all who came before you, and all who will follow. isn't that something?
sweet dreams, Luci <3