Every so often I get involved in doing something and I immerse myself in it for a period of time obsessively. This weekend I somehow decided I wanted to do Xmas crafts. I spent two days buying ornaments and all manner of glue, paint, glitter, pop sickle sticks, lights and making all sorts of things.
But I know that just as feverishly as I would do this now, it is quite possible that by next weekend I won’t pick up any of it again – maybe not ever again.
I’ve never truly found anything that I would stick with and say this is what I really “love” to do. I suppose yes I’ve always wanted to be a writer but and I was obsessive with blogging for about a year (I did well) but sure enough I’ve slowed to a near halt.
I know I have these obsessive spates that are very similar to the actions of an addict. Coming from a family of addicts it is still something that bothers me- how much my behavior can mirror theirs even though I’m not a drug or alcohol addict.
The base is the same though- whether it be boredom or anxiety or the need for the mind to be immersed in something so as not to face the craziness that is there…
I don’t think I will ever find that “peace” in life where I no longer move from one thing to the other or refrain from falling into long listless spells where I stay in bed and never move for the day…(or night). I move only if I have to go to work but really that is the extent to what I do unless I am suddenly taken up with some obsession other.
I used to wonder what it would be like to be normal. But I don’t anymore because I know I will never be normal and thinking about it isn’t going to make it happen. I’m just killing time / passing through…
I made ornaments with the popsicle sticks today… who knows if I will continue next week…
I decided to stay home yesterday. It was the first day I took off since the term started … just wasn’t in the mood for the usual shit in work. Also I had to go to a funeral. Now I’ve sworn off funerals I’m just fed up of going to funerals for all these people in my life – young people. And yet again… someone my age died. And this funeral I knew I HAD to go to. So this week was …. not the best.
So as I was home, I watched you tube bloggers and then somehow I started looking at Xmas decoration-making on Pinterest.. somewhere along the way I got… inspired? (Obsessed).
Now I don’t even own a glue gun and I have never been an actively crafty person on any way… but I just felt like I wanted to try some of the simple ideas I saw.
Since my boyfriend died six years ago we never decorate a proper Xmas tree. I just can’t/ won’t. We string lights on trees outside in the yard and that’s about it. I have a ficcus tree that I “sort of” light and put some decorations on in honor of him because he used to decorate a ficcus as his Xmas tree. Aside from that we just never were the kind of household to buy ornaments every year / change Xmas themes or anything like that I can legitimately say there are ornaments there from when I was born 33 years ago.
But somehow I decided that I wanted to “make” some decoration ideas happen. I ended up doing quite a bit… in surprised at myself and don’t think they look to bad for being an amateur.
I did a centerpiece in a vase for the usual dinner table. I used a punch bowl mom never used to put ornaments in to make a big centerpiece for another table we have. I got some candle jars that look like mason jars and put those at the base of the ficcus tree with lights. I did a Basket for chocolate (I might add a bow) and I redid a wreath for my mom.
My grandfather (moms dad) originally made that wreath prob a decade ago maybe even two decades ago actually so needless to say the ornaments etc on it were really beyond their last days. So I got rid of the old ornaments and used the base of the wreath itself and redid it. I like that I was able to kind of keep the sentimental tie of having it originally be my grandfather who made it and I just kind of added to it so much later on.
I enjoyed today. I had a good day. Here is some of what I did today…
The sound of my breathing rattled in the confines of my chest as air fought to claw its way from the depths of my lungs and out my slightly parted lips. My hand frozen and aching as it clutched something tightly… a foreign object slaked in a congealed, blackish slime – a testament to events I could not now recall. The muscles of my neck screamed in defiance as I turned my head slowly to rest on the misshapen, shrunken form beside me… staring at me with blank eyes… maw agape… as a python oozed from its bowels hungry and desirous.
For days I had been battling this insistent sensation… an incessant itch, until it felt like I had dug the skin from off of my back in long painful trenches. I made my way to a mirror while awkwardly stretching the left sleeve of my top down off my shoulder. I turned, peering over my shoulder, and scratched furiously at the now inflamed, blackish purple-spot exposing raw pink flesh. A thin rivulet of startlingly red blood leaked from the wound. Then… I felt something move… inside… I stopped scratching… and slowly prodded the area when suddenly it appeared.