My Irrational Hatred. A Stream of Consciousness Journal.

The other day I showed up at work to pick something up. It was my day off. I came in and randomly found these 3 books in my box. 3 different people had decided to share these book with me the same day. It makes me think I should be paying attention to some messages in them. 

This week has been a pretty emotional week. I just had about a 4 hour episode where I absolutely felt mental. M.e.n.t.a.l. I got up awkwardly, missed a brunch I had planned to go to, misplaced car keys, set off our car alarm 3 times, super confused the car computer so much so none of us think it's safe to drive currently, biked downtown, forgot it was Monday- the Sally Ann and Library were closed, sat in front of the library, read a poem using their wifi and cried. 

While I was biking to all of these places I seemed to go everywhere I don't normally, the opposite sides of the street. The normal, smooth bike route I would take was such an awkward path today. I had to stop and hop up on the sidewalk multiple times to get out of cars way. It is a cloudy, warm, misty, humid day. My helmet, that I don't usually wear, felt as though it was suffocating me. 

I made it down to the waterfront and only felt hatred. I hated the sea. I hated the dream. I hated the longing it bestows on me sometimes. I hated the mystery. And that dream. That unattainable dream. 

I hated all the boats that were there. And all the people who had enough money to sail them. H.A.T.E. I hated the people who were heading on their own adventures. Strangers who hadn't invited me along. Along for the ride. I hated the money. The freedom. The work. 

This was all part of this weird morning and realistically or rationally I don't hate any of those things. But it's what came up for me at the time. 

I helped organize a Solstice celebration the other day. The longest day and shortest night of the year. I was in bed by 2:30 am. In some ways the celebration was so perfect. So many people came from different walks of life and from all over the world. There was one person there I did not feel comfortable around. I haven't been triggered like that in a very long time. It was impressive and a bit scary. I felt this similar hatred come up then too. 

- Another Josephine Wall Painting- I love her work.

My good friend from work is moving away soon. When the pool shuts down she will be gone. There is a big turn over of people going on right now in Prince Rupert. I explained to her that I want to be happy. I am happy for these people. But I can't smile for them. My face and heart only drops whenever I hear of someone else moving on or see another house pop up for sale. 

I explained to my friend that I am so excited for her but so sad she is leaving. There is this irrational, but emotional part of me, a part that is so connected to my facial expressions and gut, that believes I wasn't enough for these people. That with all my being I was not enough to keep them in town. I was not enough to keep them here. I did not make their experiences of Prince Rupert as a home base enough. I was not enough. It is my fault. I should have done more. Again, I realistically know this is not true. But a piece of my heart has come up with the idea. 

She explained to me that the people here are enough. It is not me. It is not anyone. But it is her dream. This place is enough for her. This place is enough. But she is following her dream. Finally, that was that totally made sense to me- something totally different- something my heart could understand. I hope to soak that in much more in the following weeks. 

These people are not moving away because they hate it here; they're not moving away because I was not enough. They're pursuing they're dreams. The dreams of the deepest corners of their heart or intuition. I can understand and accept that. Because maybe one day I will do the same. I believe this will always be my home though.

This mist and humidity and grey and sporadic changes are all a part of me, as it is this place. 

Ok I feel a bit better now. Here's to stepping back into the real world again. **Breath**

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