Everything and Nothing

I’ve been wanting to write on these two words since they appeared in my mind last week.

There was a night that I couldn’t escape my desires, to feel.

I wanted so badly to feel loved on, but I recognized it was merely as a means of distraction, not necessarily connection.

Being sober is teaching me every day how to sit with my feelings; yearning, anxiety, discomfort, mind-numbing boredom, dissatisfaction, annoyance.

Yes, I named all “negative” emotions, because those are the hardest for me to sit through.

When you’re used to a coping mechanism that allows you to choose how intensely you feel certain emotions, sitting through them sober is quite an experience.

My first hope is that I can run away from it, within myself. That there is some place in me where I can exist away from it where it won’t get to me, but everything inside of me is connected now. No matter how much I wish I could compartmentalize.

My sobriety has made it so that everything inside of me bleeds together like colors running through water trying to find each other. There is no one thing inside of me that can’t touch the others. That can feel so overwhelming at times.

It can also feel like a gift that I’d lost the appreciation for.

This method of disconnection I could once count on was also what kept me disconnected from my gifts; feeling, seeing, and writing.

I remember once believing that I had writer’s block for two years. The truth is, there were parts of my life I was hiding from and within. The only way for me to manage those lies was by hiding beneath substances.

That blocked me from being able to connect with myself, which heavily affected my writing. It was like trying to get water from a rock.

Now I feel like I exist as this…perpetually exposed thing, not a wound like I once saw it. But more like when seeds are exposed in soil. They’re just expectant, waiting for the next step, waiting to show the world what more it can do.

I feel like I’m in this expectant moment. I’m yearning to see, feel, and be a part of this next part of my life already. I want it so badly that I’m growing impatient with just being here in this moment. It’s manifested as this low hum inside of me that makes it difficult for me to sit still or wait a moment out.

I recently discovered it’s actually a frequency.

Something I literally have to sit still in, tune into, and utilize to get clear about my intentions.

Sometimes that feels like sitting in a moment where I feel everything and nothing. I can’t escape the everything, I can’t distract myself with any false feelings. I can’t jump from this moment into the next just because I want to so badly.

There’s no heightened feeling I’m running haphazardly towards to avoid being in the now.

I have to get still, I have to tune into my frequency until my hands stop shaking from resistance.

I have to just Be.