I live in my head.
It;s true. In the last year I have taken up residence on the top floor and for the most part I have a very busy adventurous life wandering the corners of my mind, sometimes to the point of forgetting that I reside in a body, that is a physical manifestation and in need of attention too.
I forget to eat, and I hardly sleep. Sometimes I can write thousands of words a day and not have uttered more than a sentence or two out loud.
There are days I forget where exactly and in what year I am physically. If something snaps me to look at my surroundings there are days I am confused as to just how I got where I am.
There are days I feel as if I am a brain in a jar, being sustained on coffee with lots of cream and sugar, because it is only the product of my brain that is required to be present or accountable. My body goes sadly neglected and unnoticed by me sometimes to the point that I don;t recognize myself in pictures, or need to take them to remind myself of my physical form.
Since I am the only one actually in my head. I have learned to enjoy solitude and while in this particular state I rarely ever get lonely. I have lots of imaginary friends and I have conversations with my friends here that are ongoing, sometimes without a phone or email exchange at all.
WHen I started getting paid to write then my whole world became the written (typed ) word and now I mostly interact virtually so having company and sharing my world has become easier as time goes on, in fact I write very much the same way I would have a conversation, and rarely edit what I write because to me it is as if my fingers are the same as if I were speaking although they do get garbled and go way too fast but when that happens and I am in a situation where I must speak, I talk too fast for anyone to understand me anyways.
I don’t talk on the phone much either because I get incredibly frustrated with repeating myself to people who can’t hear as fast as I talk. It has become almost an aversion even when I know I can talk slow but sometimes if the mood strikes me and its the right person, I will talk and talk for hours.
There are days where if you were to be in the same vicinity as me you would see me in the morning and then at night in the same spot staring off into space and think I was brain-dead. Or lazy, or whatever it is people think about others who doesn;t move or change or interact all day long.
If you could have come in my head you would have been amazed at the miles I traveled the things I accomplished, the lives I touched, the ways I changed.
I think sometimes if it weren’t for the fact I live with family, or have people around me, or am required to show up physically because of the kids needs, I would waste away to nothing before I realized it, or go months without human contact, never speak aloud.
Occasionally I wonder is this my illness? Or is it some form of transcendence? I don’t often care about my surroundings anymore and my material possessions are not near as important, nor as many as they were . In fact, I came to my parents house to help my mom after her surgery in the beginning of June with 4 changes of clothes. some books and my laptop, and haven’t missed anything much since except for George. I miss George a lot.
Then there are other days that I am sure it is just a defense mechanism. That I have had more than enough, more than I can bear and my mind has disconnected from my body for mere survival.
I have a disorder of the mind that affects my emotions which are also manifested physically and the intensity of which I have felt things of late, for the past few … I dunno is more than is comfortable, indeed bearable at times. It can be agony.
I am content, happy with the things I have and the .. I dunno day-to-day happenings of life. I finally found the key when I stopped looking for it. Maybe because when you stop looking you are n’t looking in the wrong place anymore and you realize you had it with you all along. There are things I would wish different, like how and why I am where I am, although I now think it was a necessary step to growing.
And I wish I didn;t feel the way I do about certain people and other events. It’s too much bad feeling to carry around. I mostly ignore it and try to find the good and be creative and write when I feel the need to and just be.
Then on any given morning I will suddenly be ravenous. There is no rhyme or reason. of course I am hungry but what I mean is, its not on the second day or the 5th day at lunch time. It just decides to switch on and suddenly. I am aware of every little thread touching my body and every ache and pain in my bones and every manifestation of emotion and every single physical need that I didn’t remember I had.
The need to eat, to speak, to sleep, to be touched by another human being. To cry.
One of the reasons I have such a fluctuation in my weight from month to month and how much sleep I get every night and whether I feel a hand stroke my hair or touch my face is this disconnect and when I am reconnected for ..survival is the only reason I can think, in order to survive physically whereas the other is to survive mentally.
I can only liken it to being in the middle of a perfect dream feeling all floaty and going along exactly how you want and boom being literally ripped from your dream back to reality not only suddenly but to find out you overslept and are already 10 minutes late to the single most important day of your life… whatever day that may be for you
You know that you wake up late and you don;t get a shower and miss your coffee and forget your lunch and don’t have any money and your shoe breaks and you worked out the night before and did not shower last night either and it’s 110 degrees and you ran out of deodorant and you can;t find your travel toothpaste or brush and feel like the cat pooped in your mouth and the big boss is at the office wanting to talk to you as soon as you get there 25 mins late – kind of uncomfortable? . Where you can;t stand yourself?
It’s not quite that bad but it can easily get that way.
And it is so miserably uncomfortable. Making up for all the disconnectedness of living in my head. It;s like living at two separate extremes. Like bipolar in its physical form.
Sometimes I get lucky and I get to eat and there is a hand to stroke my hair, to touch my face, an interested person in the flesh to show my achievements to and listen to me speak out loud, and then a good night sleep .
Then is when the stars align and for a brief time, until my appetite wanes, and the person who was listening stops and sleep eludes me again I am right where I should be.
That is when I recognize who I am the best of any other time. When I bring the life in my head and the physical needs of my body together and I am me. I never am quite sure which of the three is worse, to not get to feel that after being pulled back into reality of ..life, being a brain in a jar day after day, or getting that moment when it all comes together then having to give it back.. because it is right where I want to be.
A real girl in the real world.