Even harder than being the participant and witness to my wet flurry attack is wondering afterwards why it's so hard to know if my emotions are directing me anywhere ... I mean honestly, what is their point?
They're like the roundabouts in Seattle, taking me in small diameter-ed circles but I guess eventually, I'll find the left or right swerve that'll quickly move me to the next path. I gotta tell you, though, right now I'm dizzy and stagnant and undefined by my last emotional attack. And in some weird way, I feel less like me and tired of the whole darned thing.
I often give them so much power; I allow them to dictate what is the reality of any given situation, and they make me say and do things that I'm not proud of after-the-fact. I wish I could know in the moment to make them be just be what they are: a heart-compass, an outlet, a way to stay immobile and safe until I can move into and through a change, or a disappointment.
So I didn't manage the situation the way I thought I should ... what am I gonna do? Right now, I think it's ok to be housebound after this storm. I suppose I could use it as an opportunity to get cozy, eat some chocolate and wait 'til the sun pokes through.
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