Kindly read posts from the site itself (myphotoblog.ca), as there are often edits. Better yet is to wait a few days or longer, before reading. Thank you to any companions on this peculiar journey.

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To Edit, Or Not To Edit

Firstly, I have about 1 functioning brain cell left — if that. And recently, these past few months, I have not been in a very good mood or mindset. Being in fight-or-flight mode, in particular, can bring out the worst in me. Call it trauma, or hypervigilance, or feeling like I’ve been an 18-year patsy in a plan far bigger and more complicated than most people’s imaginings (which I don’t even know myself; just that I’ve been through 1 million or more lessons, tests, retributions, with sometimes terrifying choices and decisions over the tiniest of choices and actions, and so forth, that few can even conceive of — 1 million manipulations, lead-ons, and even traps).

People talk to me about honesty, yet don’t offer the same — or, it’s give, give, give and do, do, do, humiliate and shame, suffer, sweat, cry, deny or alter every aspect of your being, your habits and inclinations, on and on, with a breadcrumb of knowledge in return — or brief moments of grace. Honestly, it feels like 100 million trips on a UFO that dips up and down at high speeds — disappointment after disappointment; more waiting and walking on eggshells, etc; and then, they wonder why you don’t respond anymore, or aren’t willing.

So for the record, ‘in that moment’, I did feel compassion and understanding**, and I liked the young man very much. I did my best to listen. No judgements or aspersions were cast. Was just conscious of the fact that I myself and others were struggling to breathe in a painful and highly politicized social environment.

In the retelling, under my current circumstances and stressors, I sounded uncaring, and I am sorry.

**NOTE: I would even have said ‘deep’, but somehow every thought, feeling, idea, or concept of who I think I am or was is in utter doubt. I seem to get very mixed messages on this front.