The Good Stuff

 Yesterday I celebrated 4/20. And I am continuing today. For me this means turning off the internal noise. I have mastered not answering the phone and ignoring most social media. I have created space to correspond in the terms with the people I love in the best way that is fitting for me. I am grateful for ones that complied. I am grappling with all things immediately exterior and maintaining. It's the mental chatter I need to check out from. 

Yesterday, I also created a sturdier, sized dress form. I was showing my boyfriend this morning, holding myself by the ass. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Look! It's MY size!" Swaying my hips. I picked it up and was carrying it away when a memory returned. I said, "You know, the first time I made a life size sculpture of myself was in third grade?" I looked at my boyfriend. He stopped stirring his coffee and said, "Life sized?" "Yea." And it was. Those are the years that are hazy. But, the good stuff is starting to come back. I had won several awards as a child for my sculpting. 

I also won an art scholarship for a technical drawing I did of a typewriter. That typewriter was my prize piece that got me noticed at a portfolio showing. Think speed dating, but interviewing with companies, fully displaying yourself in front of them. Grueling shit. But, I got noticed. I got into the industry. And I did get to create and work with companies I had dreamed of. Then, I walked away from all of it. I have so much understanding now with the difficulties I was encountering with that world. I retreated. Then my past caught up to me. I wasn't ready. 

While looking for duct tape yesterday, I got aggravated with a drawer I had pulled out. Something was behind it, not letting it close. I yanked it out in Cynthia fashion and went to inspect. It was an old CD holder, with even older CDs in it. It must have been down there from the very first time we lived in this townhouse. It's interesting, that is coinciding with same years I went dark, and my life radically changed. I wanted to hear the music, see what memories came up. I realized I did not have one device to play these CDs on. They were already vintage. CD players will be the old record players and albums. And it will be cool, because these are personal. The music is personal. 

I was thinking about these things yesterday while creating my dress form. I am working on personalizing my clothes and I need a form I can build off of. I was reminded about a message I needed to check online. My mammogram results are back and are great. No issues. All my bloodwork seems fine, except the increased cholesterol. My thyroid levels were fine. I misread the numbers and instantly fell down that rabbit hole of genetic disease. Once that started, all the self abuse and mean talk comes. The internal dialog I need to quiet. The constant self shaming. Shift the focus. Let me start to focus on the good.

Immediately when I attempt to do that, literal panic will set over my chest. I feel like I have been going through my house, room by room, closet by closet, drawer by drawer. There are moments of "Wow, I have been looking for that!" And also moments of, "I just can't fucking deal right now, and I refuse." I shove it back. I see the work, but right now, there are other areas I have to put my energy. Before I go exploring the attic of horror, I'd like to put on a safety suit, mask and have something strong to stand on.