Monday, March 6, 2017

Bloodflows




I was going to say that i don't have words to describe the past months, but the thing is i do.
I have nothing but words. I've written so many.
I just don't know if any of them belong here.
Or even out in the real world.

For the longest time i had a hard time keeping up any real conversation, even with my close friends, because i couldn't lie. I was too weak to lie properly.
People would ask "how are you?" and at a certain point, when you're hurting too much, you just can't lie for their comfort anymore. So you say "not good" and they say "oh, why?" and you say because something very bad happened and now i am traumatized and stuck in some kind of nightmare state and i can't get over it. Or out of it. 
And they say "it just takes time, time heals" and you smile and nod because this is as far as appropriate social behavior allows you to go, but inside you're thinking "yes, rationally i know this is the truth, but there's a very real chance i'll be dead before time has healed anything".
And there was.
I don't want to be dramatic but the fact is that there's a limit to how many times the same devastating thing can happen to you, and you come out of it fine. A limit to how many cartoon pianos can be dropped on your head and you still get to walk away without a scratch. Or even walk away stronger from the experience, as some people seem to hope and expect.

I am not stronger from this experience. I am weak and scarred and exhausted.
During those months, there wasn't a single day where a lump didn't form in my throat, usually at the most random times, mid conversation, or walking down the street. I would remember, it would all wash over me, and i would feel... worthless. Ugly. Less of a person.
There wasn't a day when i didn't consider, just for a split second, walking into the street a moment too soon, just to not feel like... that, anymore. Or ever again. 
To truly feel nothing, to be really numb, and not just emotionally paralyzed and joyless as i had been, for that whole time.

But instead of walking into traffic, i just waited. 
Instead of trying to find a way to move on, i waited.
I went to sleep alone, and i waited.
I got up and went to work in the morning, and i waited.
I hung out with my friends, and i walked the dog, and i made my lunch for the week, and i cried every day, and i just waited.
I made it through another day without hurting myself. And i waited, and then waited some more.
And i am still waiting.
I'm not even gonna pretend i'm fine or over it.
But i take my vitamins and my herbal antidepressants and i work out and laugh a lot.
And i think i am crying less, and sometimes i even feel kind of normal.

Like i said, i have plenty of words.
They're on my computer, on my phone, and in my head, every second of every day, and maybe some day i'll post them all here.
But for now i just wanted to give you a life sign.
I wanted to let you know that your messages mean the world to me.
So that's it for now.

Here are a few photos from just the past month, because there's no point in looking too far back.



In my numbness i quit painting, i didn't study, but i'm starting to paint again

At a concert with Juli

Going out with Frances

Breakfast with Angus

Lucifer in Wilmersdorf

Trying to get back into shape is not easy when you don't have time to work out, so i do that on weekends, as much as possible

Family portrait on the morning this awesome roomie left for Australia

Pizza with Mohannad at Standard, probably my favorite pizza place in Berlin

Brunch at Isla

 Hipster coffee of the day, sadly not going to be a thing anymore

 A painting i finished a long time ago of some great people

Also great people, my Scandi crew, seen here getting some free coffee outside the office on a magical day

Lucifer and Josephine having a moment in the sun during a rare break

On my deathbed, being asked what i thought about my life
Me:

Me today. I don't want to be in Berlin. I want to lie in the sand, close to the ocean, and let the saltwater and the burning sun heal my scars. Both the visible ones on my face and chest and back, and the deep cuts, still fresh, on my soul. It won't be today, or anytime soon. But maybe some day