Death By A Thousand Paper Cuts: Reality Bites

Looking back at my previous posts, I've noticed two things: less and less frequent postings and a distance from my original plans for blogging. The frequency, I blame on a few things, mostly Facebook and keeping up with/harassing unsuspecting people that way. As stabby as FB makes me sometimes with its disconnections and finicky chats, I can't help but appreciate its role in my life recently.

The tone change in the blog is due to my lack of creativity and general mood. Turns out, I haven't got a creative or funny cell in my body when my mind is where it has been for the past nine months or so. I have been battle the need to say something--anything--to lighten this load that is on my chest and of self-censoring before I say too much. Being a private exhibitionist is not as easy as it seems.

I've been up for the past two hours (after 'sleeping' for less than two), staring in the dark and willing calmness upon my mind. Nothing is working. Yoga breathing might help if I didn't catch myself holding my breath for what seems an eternity sometimes. All of the baseless medical symptoms that have bothered me for the past month or so are still bothering me, now with the added bonus of feeling the acid in my stomach spill over and course through my body. The fire and knots from my stomach are taking over and officially robbing me of what few hours of restless sleep I was getting a few weeks ago.

I had a brief moment of reprieve on Monday: I went running at Torrey Pines and felt an almost out of body sense of joy, despite the physical pains. It reminded me why I loved running and what I love about living in San Diego. I was forced to breathe the ocean air, feel the evening chill crawling on my skin, battling the fire just beneath the surface. For a brief moment I felt so light I thought I would evaporate. During the run, I felt something that had been missing for so long I had almost forgotten it existed in me. And I want it back, even if it breaks me in the process.