Self-preservation
And then there are those moments in our lives when nothing is going right and it feels like the whole world is about to crumble. A time when sanity unravels and the final length of rope that keeps you from pawning your soul to the devil for some peace of mind is the same one that loops tightly around your neck that keeps you from dropping into the expanse of the darkness of some deep vacuum.
Even in my sleep my dreams had become exhausting - of running scared and desperate through the woods from some unseen enemy or helplessly trying to keep my head above freezing water with weary legs that can no longer kick to stay afloat.
With swallowed pride I opened myself up to a few trusted people and cried for help. For someone who had tried never to show her vulnerable self I felt exposed baring my desperation. It is a humbling experience to acknowledge that I had erred, that I had taken missteps and in some ways have taken the more challenging route to a life that had always been easy. The charmed life that my sister insists we have been blessed with has been eluding me for a while.
"Take care of yourself," the Italian reminded me. "You forget that the most important of all is yourself. You have to take care of you to take care of them. You have to keep some of the love for yourself instead of giving it all away," he said. "Keep some for yourself," he insisted in a worried voice.
He and I share a concentric variety of roles in the years we had known each other: artist and manager, artist and critic, artist and fan, parent and child, nemesis and foe, spy and spy, friends. I recognized the chuckle in his voice when he said that he would have to be the manager for a while so I would have no choice but to listen to him. And he insisted that I stop putting myself out to drain for a while.
And so for now I am taking care of me and will shut the weary world out until my soul is healed, my world is back in order and I am back to my old giddy self.
So please excuse me while I take care of me.
Even in my sleep my dreams had become exhausting - of running scared and desperate through the woods from some unseen enemy or helplessly trying to keep my head above freezing water with weary legs that can no longer kick to stay afloat.
With swallowed pride I opened myself up to a few trusted people and cried for help. For someone who had tried never to show her vulnerable self I felt exposed baring my desperation. It is a humbling experience to acknowledge that I had erred, that I had taken missteps and in some ways have taken the more challenging route to a life that had always been easy. The charmed life that my sister insists we have been blessed with has been eluding me for a while.
"Take care of yourself," the Italian reminded me. "You forget that the most important of all is yourself. You have to take care of you to take care of them. You have to keep some of the love for yourself instead of giving it all away," he said. "Keep some for yourself," he insisted in a worried voice.
He and I share a concentric variety of roles in the years we had known each other: artist and manager, artist and critic, artist and fan, parent and child, nemesis and foe, spy and spy, friends. I recognized the chuckle in his voice when he said that he would have to be the manager for a while so I would have no choice but to listen to him. And he insisted that I stop putting myself out to drain for a while.
And so for now I am taking care of me and will shut the weary world out until my soul is healed, my world is back in order and I am back to my old giddy self.
So please excuse me while I take care of me.