Flittering butterfly
Friday, October 8, 2010 at 8:54PM 
That's me right now. It's very hard to admit. I have not found my own footing yet. I keep looking for people to center me, and I keel flittering from person to person, thinking this one, no this one, oh, maybe it was that one - over-scheduling myself and overcommitting, afraid someone will bail on me, and someone will not work out. Terrified of being left alone if none of the scheduling works, and at the same time wanting something I can't have and shoving aside things that stare me in the face and are easy to grab. Jumping from one emotion to another. Happy one minute, depressed another. Looking, looking, looking. Needy, desperate. Afraid I won't find what I'm looking for, and having found it, thinking - what if there is something better, what if I only have to wait a bit longer to see it? Then looking back, thinking, no, I should have grabbed that one, why did I pass it? Constant doubt is killing me, and so I keep jumping from one thing to another, from one person to another. Searching for I don't know what, barely recognizing myself, wondering if this is only another stage and will be over, or if I'm bound to this now for life.
And when I land, when I hold yet the next flower in my hand, I sniff it and think - no, this one is not quite sweet enough. I grab another one and look, and wonder - maybe this one is not colorful enough, I need a bit more color. And another - not open enough. Another - not tall enough. I grab more, none work. Then I'm tired of all of it and I crash in the middle of the field, filled with flowers, my wings broken. No more a butterfly, but a ghost of one. Empty. Chasing something, I don't know what. My hands shaking at the prospect of being on this search forever. Realizing, the search is not what all of this is about. But me. Me not being stable inside of myself, me feeling left shattered, despite the fact that this is what I was looking for - being on my own, doing things alone, my way, how I want them. What's wrong? How all of a sudden everything changed and I no longer crave this freedom? Why do I try to attach to people, to someone, to anyone? How come I feel this way now, after I thought all the drama was over? Why is this need to attach so overpowering, and what does it mean? Will I attach quickly only to discover later that I need to go look for something else? Or am I trying to attach because I have an emptiness to fill, the gaping hole that is bleeding in my heart, after the loss of love that I thought I had?
I don't know. Neither of the above rings true to how I feel, yet I do feel torn and bleeding. It hurts, and hurts, and doesn't stop. I look for ways to relieve it, but maybe I'm looking in the wrong places. Maybe I ought to look deep inside of myself again and understand where this need to attach comes from. Maybe it was something I could never have - the love of my parents - something I wanted to badly that it remained an unfulfilled need for so many years. As I wrote this sentence, it all came out at once. Tears. Pain. I can barely type right now. What do I do with this? I will never get the love I'm craving, I know that. I will never find replacement for what I'm craving, I know that too. So what, I'm stuck now? Is the only solution to press down on my emotions and stuff them as deep inside of me as I possibly can? I have that skill polished to perfection - why not use it again? It will bring relief from the pain, for sure. I won't need attachment, or love, or anything else. I will be self-fullfilled, numb, easy going, and moderately happy - or think that I am moderately happy. Until what? Until I realize I'm not living fully? Why would I realize it? Because I tasted what feeling everything means. It's what's called being alive. Is it worth the suffering? Should I mend those wings and try to flitter up, to the sun?
Will I have the strength to mend them? There is enough debris under my feet, some of it is of dead incests, those stupid dreamers who thought they can fly. Why not give up right now and join them? All it takes is jumping off, head down. I'm holding on by a mere thread. Should I?
Photo by Zara J.
Reader Comments (2)
This line: "Maybe I ought to look deep inside of myself again and understand where this need to attach comes from." is your answer. Not so different from entrepreneurship, dear Ksenia. Either you run around, chasing ghost, or find the yardstick and find a way to get there. We are humans, we are a group animal. The need comes from that instinct, nothing else. But how to fulfill that needs is up to you to control, entirely.
You know I love you, you are a very dear friend to me. So look inside that very very smart head of yours, and slow down. It is ok to be alone. It gives you time to grow, instead of having distraction from someone else's needs and thoughts.
Leo, you're right. I am trying, I am trying as hard as I can. But not without pain, of course. Thank you my dear friend - it is so great to hear from you.