Broken Bella Donna











{March 28, 2015}  

Thank you polaris office! I have been able to get some stuff down when I think of it, which means I can blog about it later on… which means hopefully I can start working through some stuff again. I’m feeling very funky tonight, weirdly and unusually so. I had a run in with the mothership over a dumb thing that could’ve been avoided so easily and on top of PP and the spazz flares lately and and and… it’s left me in a strange headspace indeed. I don’t like it at all. I feel flighty and hair triggered and ill. I feel tense and worried and in all honesty, I’m having thoughts I’d really rather not have. And I’m unsure how to get away from this. All I know is that I need to, or this could get ugly.

So. My thoughts from today…

When cleaning up today I found my little brown bear. He has no name, and he is a tiny wee little thing, about 10cm tall, dark brown and furry with a yellow bow and shiny little black eyes. I have had him since I was a little girl, I can’t put a number on it but I’ll say… probably around 6? I was and still am surprisingly attached to him, and was surprised to find him again today. And when i found him… I realised something.

He has one leg longer than the other, and it is sewn back on with yellow and red cotton, indicating it has been ‘repaired’ at least twice. When I was playing with him and his little furry leg originally fell off I was devastated. I just wanted him fixed. I became so enamoured with the idea that he could be fixed that I kissed his little wee head and tucked him into my toy hammock. I prayed the fairies would come and fix him for me, I prayed very hard, and I turned the light off (as I knew they would be too scared to come out otherwise) and I left him. Somewhat unsurprisingly, upon my return that hadn’t happened. He was still broken. I can actually picture it to this very day, the white plastic rod that ran down his leg exposed, with the raw edge of the fabric.

This was my first foray into the understanding that you can’t rely on anyone else to fix your problems for you. If you want something done, you have to be proactive and do it yourself. That no one is going to come save your arse. No matter how much you pray and beg and plead. No matter how much you want something, wanting it isn’t and never will be enough.

It dawned on me today that I’m still doing this, placing my hopes, dreams and trust in figures of my imagination. I’m still looking for someone to save me when I need to learn to save myself. If I make the effort and try, I can do things for myself, and I can ‘save’ myself. And in the long run I will get what I want, it may not be perfect but it is good and has lasted nearly thirty years.

PP is the fairy (ha ha). I am the bear. He isn’t going to save me. I have to save myself.

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