Mirror, Mirror – #Trust30: Day 3

Mirror, Mirror by Esther Poyer

“Truth is beautiful, without doubt; but so are lies.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mirror, mirror on the wall… find the nearest mirror. Look. Keep looking for 3 minutes. Write about what you see.

I find this exercise repulsive. It very much hit me in a depersonalized space and exemplifies my unstable sense of identity so I decided to cross post it here as well.

The thought of looking into my own eyes only to see a stranger staring back at me is, disconcerting. I recognize the girl on the other side of the mirror.

She has my father’s eyes, my mother’s nose. Cherry black hair and more metal than half the machines out in my shop, but she isn’t me. Is she? Maybe she is and I just can’t see, beyond the surface layer of skin and sinew that binds me up inside.

I’d find her attractive if she wasn’t so comfortably unfamiliar.

Floating two feet to the left of me I sense my motions walking through a world detached from the rest of me. Too often it feels like watching some other force pilot a body I recognize as my own, watching the reactions to my movements to guess the next step that someone else will be taking. It’s worse when I think about it. The detachment more pronounced. Staring at myself is all the more disconcerting for the knowledge that I should know who this woman is. Cognitively I know that I should see her and internalize that she is me, and cognitively I do know what she is, but I have no attachment to my reflection. She’s who I want my physical Self to appear to be. But is she really me?  Hm, in part I believe she is. Certain things draw my eye. I am attracted to certain things, so naturally I want to incorporate those things into my Self. Isn’t that how we develop our personalities and self image growing up? We see things we appreciate, mimic them, until we make them our own. I’m well past the mimicry. What draws us is integral to that which we are so what I see is who I want to be. On the outside.  Fortunately for me, I can’t see my insides reflected on this glass. A sight I’ve seen before. That is a part of me, that should stay where it belongs. Blood and tissue, fat and tears; things I work to keep from my mirror. I don’t want to see what I know is actually there. Don’t want to see who I’m afraid I might be. I don’t want to look. Nothing you can do, can make me.

Eyes lie. Tell me this is someone I am, who I should be, who I can be. Maybe this time she speaks the truth, but her words have proven false so many times I no longer know the sound of those that ring true. Pretty words from soft lips look like promises wrapped in straight jackets of gold. The madness she feels is real. Truth.

Writing this was very triggering and I had to stop.  

crossposted: Asylum

Worthwhile Day – #Trust30: Day 1

Taking this prompt from Interruption I’ve decided to also look into the Ralph Waldo Emerson #Trust30 Challenge. It started back in May but as I’m just discovering it now I shall start, well, now. This will be something I do back and forth between Beyond and Asylum. I’ll flip back and forth between my blogs depending on which I believe is most relevant towards, or cross post on both.
#Trust30 is an online initiative and 30-day writing challenge that encourages you to look within and trust yourself. Use this as an opportunity to reflect on your now, and to create direction for your future. 30 prompts from inspiring thought-leaders will guide you on your writing journey.

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could.”
What is one thing you can do that would make today worthwhile? What’s stopping you from getting started right now?
Today I am tired. So very, very tired. What could make this day worthwhile are three things.
1.      Schedule an appointment with my therapist
2.      Work on my light saber
3.      Paint
Mondays are usually my days for therapy but as this was a holiday my appointment needed to be cancelled and rescheduled. Therapist left me a voicemail to reschedule for Tuesday which I promptly ignored. I know I shouldn’t have, just out of politeness, but I hate scheduling things like that. It was my day off and I didn’t want to interrupt my day of potential freedom. I regret it now. I just, have an aversion to rescheduling on days I am not prepared for. It makes me anxious. I fight it. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. Even when I know it’s something I need. It didin’t fall into a slip of time I saw as open and therefore I pushed it aside and forgot about it, even as the seeds of sadness and depression have been clawing their way deeper into my mind.
I scheduled an emergency appointment with my therapist today. This is the first time I’ve ever done that. She seemed flustered, but accommodating. Maybe she wasn’t expecting to hear from me. Maybe her schedule was busy. But she took me anyway. All I can hope is that I feel better, sooner. I recognize that I need to do this for me. No one else can make me seek the help I need. I’ve known this. I need to not forget this.
Now for the fun. The fun is tempered by the weariness in my arms. I slept well for a change (thank you Trazadone). I recently received the no-bake epoxy I’ll be using to fashion the aesthetics of my light sabers. Last night I sat down with this new medium for the first time and set out to sculpt an idea for my hilts. I must say, it came out only barely resembling what I’m hoping to do. I was frustrated but not completely disheartened. By the end of the hour I spent I had:
– Gained an understanding of how to mold the epoxy.
– Formed a new idea of how to approach the design details that I want.
– Tried a medium that I’ve never used before, by myself, without any guidance.
So I wouldn’t call the night a failure. Especially as I’ll have time to sit down tonight and take a go at Round 2. If this doesn’t work, than I can always do what I did for my last light saber hilts. I like how those turned out and I know I can do that style (only better). Oh, creative process, how you frustrate and compel me.
Paint. I dearly love to paint. With my mind so weighed down in a thick grey fog it’s been difficult for me to be inspired. I  started a piece on Tuesday. Barely. I primed the paper and painted it all black. I’m trying something new. Water. A waterfall at night to be precise. We’ll see how it comes out. I was inspired by the meditation of a tarot card I did. One I’m designing on my own and in order to create the image I want, I will need to know how to do water. So of course, my next step is to figure out how to paint water that flows and spills. One goal to another to another goal. Except the real goal is the process itself. Yes, there will be something to point to at the end, but it is the journey of how I’ve gotten there that is what really means the most to me.
crossposted Asylum