I read, write, draw, create costumes, sew, cook, bake. All things that I need to focus my full attention on in order to complete. Or I fight, fuck, dance… all things that require no thought and full action, distract from my thoughts.
I love to read. I can submerge myself in scientific periodicals and engage my mind in clinical thoughts. Or delve into mythos and fantasy, transporting myself into an entirely different world. A world that is not this one. When my mind is so focused somewhere else, it’s impossible for me to focus on myself.
Movies are another favorite past time. I even rate how good a movie is by how well it holds my attention. If my mind wanders off during a film it couldn’t have been that great because it didn’t hold my interest fully.
Masquerade events are a full process. I generally create all my own costumes from scratch so it gives me time to occupy my evenings leading up to it. Putting on my clothes I can put on a persona and slip into a fantasy role.
Drawing is a wonder. When I have an image in mind I can lose myself for hours designing, drawing, shading. Pour my heart and my energy onto paper and the time just slips away.
Cooking and baking is twofold because it’s something I do for other people. It’s one of the ways I show affection, take care of the people in my life. I create elaborate multi course meals and consume myself with the prep work. Everything timed just so every minute is filled. While one thing is baking, another is being prepped or sautéed or boiled. While some thing simmers another fries. I orchestrate so many things at any given time I’m a mad rush of pots, pans, and delicious smells.
I wonder if I do this on purpose to stave off boredom, or if there are other underlying reasons. I wonder what would happen if I stopped distracting myself; left myself alone with my thoughts. I imagine nothing good. I tend to feel hollow, empty. Filling the minutes fills my life, keeps it from slipping away into obscurity. Would I discover some previously uncovered truth? Or unearth a purposefully buried trauma? If I’m not constantly occupied I feel like I have no purpose. On the plus side, I tend to be very productive.
It often feels like everything is frantic rush to or from occupying my mind and time. Trying to forget and trying to hold on.