I'd like to breathe

I've been talking with various people. Friends. Aquaintances. They know my situation. My daughter has just started school and I'm beginning to come out of my shell in the sense of becoming more comfortable with her at school.The dis-attaching process. People have been saying a variety of things "This is what you've wanted. It's time for you now", I've said in the past, "I can't wait to get my life back" (and I can't help feeling guilty about that one) and, now - this is the 64 million dollar question "What do you like doing?" And right now, the answer is......nothing healthy. I feel dis-attached. Detached from a deeply buried urge to CREATE. I feel fit to bursting. Blocked.  I want to let whatever it is, out to play! But I feel throttled, as if gripped  around the neck by a coiling tyrant beast. I literally feel it, the tension under my chin. Even now as I write this. I am gradually suffocating, struggling for breath, craving inspiration. Can I breathe through words? Can words help me escape? My air pipe up through the quagmire of shame - the swampland of the soul, as the Jungians would say. What is this sludge that engulfs me? I honestly don't know, all I know is that it's there, and won't shift and hasn't shifted for years. I've tried all sorts of medications, meditations, therapies and art. The latter is the most effective....but the train won't leave the station just now, artist's block is mental self-harm. Self-imprisonment. A female dog, silent and chained up and not allowed to run free or howl.

 

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Mummy's Minor Car Crash

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