In My Feelings

I know adding soundtracks to blogs are by now a fondly recalled memory-even blogging itself a distant past- but I think the song, or the title at least has been all that's needed to describe how I have been this past week. It's been a slow brewing but I've been feeling a slight dreariness to many things these days. The military has been kind to me so far, and months in, this has been the most comfortable I've ever had been in a while, or at all.

But that's the thing about comfort, it makes you forget of what the outside world is made up of - the jarring stares and intolerance had never once subsided, the middle ground and peace found in the form of turning a blind eye to it, muting the cacophony by staying in your happy place. Oddly, these days the morsels of comfort has found home in the giant confines of the camp, the branch and the bunk. But ultimately, it's the people.

Much of my waking hours in this mini community have been in the luxe of social environments - workmates-turned-friends on and off duty and they've been so much to help take me out of my head or feel less sequestered by it, but I often find myself needing to get away from all sorts of interaction, remove the suit and social facade we all feel morally obliged to don before heading out to face the real world.

Human beings are every bit of what you see when looking into a psychedelic kaleidoscope, unassuming beings but in truth are and can be so complex and ridiculous, sussing out moments of condemnation to create unnecessary conflicts in the mind. In my moments of convalescence, I recuperate as I do deteriorate, a raging war to see which out-charges the other, like a broken iPhone wire. The same goes for when I find myself in social surroundings.

As I close the doors to bunk #03-35, so do I to the last of reacting. But only if the mind can have doors, and thoughts simple-minded guests at the beck and call of the host. The unnerving thoughts, that is.

I digress.

On the bed-the most lived-in one, on the edge trousers clumsily sprawled, shorts freshly removed- I bask in Lana's latest album, Lust for Life on shuffle-cuz not Spotify premium lol- and indulge the dark thoughts, showering it with attention. My original practice was to pick up where I left off with my latest Library find, but now I'm reluctant to begin Kanae Minato's Penance, it's perfect exterior unbroken into yet by dogears, creases and a hovering cover page.

I haven't been at all the most conscientious patient, missing doses of Lexapro here and there, as a result being able to skip several sessions with the doctor due to the abundance of pills spilling over. But I realised how little it takes to get me jumping into the rabbit hole - a freckle of a self-doubt quickly turns into self-affirmation that you are what you (over)think.

It's disconcerting how easily I get affected by things, as if my emotions adopt the binary system - to be on either ends of the spectrum, either or, never kind of happy or a just little bit sad. But I still try to remind myself not to get myself involved when it comes to playing the cards of emotions, because you didn't go through all that damage to be so easily bought, to be casually chewed up and spit out.

Make the pain mean something.