I am stuck
Being the paradoxical kind of girl I am my ‘stuckness’ is dynamic and fluid. It’s an ever-changing stuckness, a stuckness that shifts and moves. Much like everything else- it is confusing and chaotic. Confusion and chaos remain the only two constants in my dynamic, stalled, paradoxical existence.
I am the personification(s?) of the butterfly effect, I contain many butterflies and every one of those butterflies contains their own butterflies. I’m not particularly large as containers go so there are just too many butterflies to cope with.
I somehow have to manage all these butterflies whilst leading some sort of life, doing the things I need to do, do the things others need me to do. I feel completely defeated.
I’m assured by the <something> therapist that internal communication is the key to butterfly taming and I don’t doubt she’s right. The problem with internal communication is that it forces you to consider there may be something internal to communicate with.
I know there is, I know there are several ‘somethings’ to communicate with, not all the somethings agree, some of the somethings don’t know they’re there, some of them are there but hiding, some of the somethings are deliberately hidden by other somethings, many of the somethings have no desire to communicate with anyone- including other somethings.
All of the somethings have their own ‘things’, things to think about, things to do, things to say, things to worry about, things to feel sad about, things to feel happy about.
Too many somethings. Too many things. Too many butterflies.
In amongst all the somethings there is a ‘nothing‘.
The nothing doesn’t want to know about the somethings, the nothing doesn’t understand why the somethings are all somethings whilst the nothing is nothing. The nothing cannot accept the somethings. The nothing wants all the somethings to go away and take all their things and butterflies with them.
The nothing cannot see that the nothing is something.
The nothing cannot see that the nothing is in fact all the somethings.
Between something and nothing there is an impasse.
I’m stuck with something, nothing and no lepidoptery skills.
I’d love for the stuckness to be as expected- stuck, stopped, I’d even settle for a pause. Mentalism is relentless, life is relentless, I somehow have to combine the two, I honestly don’t know how. The only factor of the stuckness that’s true to its etymology is that I feel trapped- in a trap that contains butterflies. A trap that releases butterflies. A trap that is a butterfly.