Snake Bites

Then everything falls apart, the come down from that high.
It pains you but, you ride it.
Every single part of that motion, you ride.
Constantly telling yourself to just breathe and feel it all because all of it matters.
You matter.
All these heavy parts of your being that you can’t stand. This overwhelming feeling of being lost, it’s like a slow moving poison in your blood. Just waiting to suffocate you.
At first, you want to fight it.
Filling your lungs with more oxygen. Your heart beats harder, your blood runs faster.
Allowing the poison to reach your heart at a faster pace.
Then you decide to trust it and dive head first because you have nothing to lose.

It tastes like salt water.
It smells like jasmine.
It feels cold upon impact but, you adjust and there is comfort found in the goosebumps as they dance across your body.

I’m alive.

There has been a lot going on mentally after I wrote that last post, it built up throughout the week until I cracked. I cracked on someone I really care about. I went back to a side of me I didn’t want to be, someone I have tried to escape from for years because I didn’t like who that woman was. When I could finally address where it was coming from, I wasn’t suffocating anymore. I had to start sucking out the poison from my wound.

I was registering my old friend’s presence with my past because she knew that part of me and I was lashing out at her because I felt she had this baggage on me. She was doing nothing wrong and it didn’t make sense to me why I was doing this. I gave myself time to think and address it. I’ve apologized and explained everything to her and completely took her to that dark side of me, which I haven’t shared with anyone in a long time. It was nothing she did, just me getting lost in my mind. She understands and I am grateful for that.

My mom came to visit and I knew it would be heavy. Her uncertainty of me ever coming home and me knowing that this conversation was coming, I knew the visit would be the deciding factor of what I was going to do. Maybe I just didn’t want to admit to myself that I wanted to go home. I’ve always just wanted to run. The thought of having to go home and not know what would come after it, that scared me more than selling everything and moving to Australia. It’s just trusting that process just as much as I trusted moving here. 

I met someone this past weekend who made me feel home. It was interesting and exciting but, I can’t help having that feeling to run, again. You know that feeling of uncertainty that sits in your thoracic diaphragm and you feel like you can’t breathe because the thought of letting someone in scares you that much. It’s all too familiar. I’ll get there when I get there though. For now, things have changed. That direction of movement of staying has shifted.

I’m going back to Hawaii. I bought my ticket this morning and it is official. I need to do what is best for me, not best for these kids. They are not my own and my time with them will come to an end. I get attached to humans easily and it is always hard for me to leave something I have given my every ounce of being to. The feeling of always needing to rescue people. It has become too much and the longer I am here, the more I realize how hard I am on myself because of my host mom. I never feel I am good enough. Constantly worrying I will do something wrong. A type of poisonous energy that can turn you into someone you don’t like if you aren’t careful. It has bitten me multiple times but, I have tried to fight through it. There is no more fighting, I am who I am. That is the best I can be.

All good things don’t come to an end, they just continue to get better as long as you perceive each moment as a gift. It’s time to continue draining the venom. No expectations. I’ll be back for you Oz but, for now, I’m headed back home.  Well, at least to Hawaii.

Signing off. Monday October 10th. 9:48 PM