Interrupted

My Life Thus Far
2016-07-05 01:14:31 (UTC)

The Verbs Instead Of The Adjectives

I'm still kind of upset about losing 3/4 of last night's entry. For whatever reason, it was better than what I've been writing lately. Like, I put more feeling into it. Yeah, it was basically just a rundown of my day, but I took the time to include more insight and feeling. Something I think my writing has been lacking lately. Instead of sharing my feelings, I only share monotony. The verbs instead of the adjectives. I want to get back to sharing more of what I feel and less of what I do. Trouble is, I spend so much of my life doing (while attempting to detach from my feelings). I don't allow myself to feel as much as I think I often want to. I push it all back. I bury it. Emotions suck so much of the time.

I'm writing early tonight, because we're going to the Port Gamble fireworks. After Keenan's panic attack at last night (which I wrote about, but that part of the entry got lost in the internet ether), he's eager to try again. He loves the colors, but the booms frighten him. It's so easy to forget that Keenan is autistic (very high functioning. So much so, I rarely mention the fact that he's autistic). He has a hard time with loud noises, bright lights, certain textures (especially foods). It's normal life, though. Hardly worth mentioning. It isn't until days like today (or last night) that I'm reminded. I hope he has a better time tonight. I'll make sure I cover his ears and hold him close.

I've been thinking about the past a lot. I'm not sure why. This morning on the drive to work I thought about the pen pal I had it the 4th grade. She was from Belarus. She must have written to me half a dozen time, but I never wrote back. Why would I all of a sudden feel remorse about that now? Over the past few days things like that keep coming up. The accident I got into 12 years ago while working at a (now closed) car dealership. Setting off a smoke detector (trying to cook hot dogs) while babysitting when I was 10. My time with Corey in December of 2013. Some of the memories are cathartic. I think about them and release the feelings of sadness, guilt, remorse, pain associated with them. And some of them I just live again. Remembering the good, embracing the bad. Not all old memories are painful. I would like to know what significance there is in the mind pulling up old memories, though. It must mean something.

I've been thinking about Facebook too. Not about how much I miss it, but about how much I don't want to go back. I'll entertain the idea of reactivating, cleaning up my friends list, leaving a lot of the groups, but really I enjoy life more without it. The only time I miss it is when I want to update a status when something interesting happens in my life. Other than that, Instagram is enough for me. I noticed some of the people I follow will post random pictures (not necessarily related to the caption they write) when they want to talk about something that isn't necessarily photographable, like their feelings. Maybe I'll try that. Then Facebook will be completely unnecessary in my life.





Ad: