sometimes i catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror & i/m not sure who i/m looking at. i don/t recognize myself anymore. i have a hard time connecting this mask to the figure hiding in the shadows behind.
i/ve been getting these headaches lately. these splitting migraines that last for days. the kind that incapacitate me. i literally cannot do anything other than lay down & focus on breathing.
when i sleep i dream of things no one wants to see.
my immune system is down. my body hates me. i can tell you some of the reasons why, but the rest i have no fucking clue.
one: everyone in france chain smokes. going out anywhere means essentially living in a chimney for however long. clubs, bars, restaurants, cafes, all the same. even small gatherings at friends/ places. it just means everyone but me smoking in an even smaller environment. i told myself before i came to france that i would not let a cigarette touch my mouth. just because everyone else here does it does not mean i need to buy into it. however,
two: remy smokes. he/s quitting. and there are days when he/s really really good at it. when he only smokes one or two. when he tells me he/s sorry for the sake of MY lungs. but then whenever we go out or anyone visits (because EVERYONE here smokes) he just goes back into old habits and smokes one after the other. i/m not really sure what move to make next. i mean, he knows my position, and he tells me he doesn/t like it, he doesn/t like how it makes him feel, that he wants to quit. but i know he enjoys it. and he knows i hate it. but i don/t know why it is that i hate it so much. because i know what his lungs look like? because i hear him struggling to breathe at night? because his snoring keeps me up for hours? because at the end of the month we don/t have enough money to eat right, but he still manages to buy a pack of smokes? because i/m not doing it? because he won/t let me do it?
i guess that/s one of the parts that/s so frustrating. i told him a while ago that i was going to match him. that i would start smoking so that he would stop. that every cigarette he smoked, i would smoke one right along with him. and he got so angry. he told me he didn/t want to watch me destroy my body like that for no reason. and i told him that was kindof the point. anyway, i didn/t do it until new years/ eve. i just couldn/t handle it anymore. he had been so good. he had even gone a day or two without. and then friends came over & he just chain smoked like crazy. i understand it/s hard to quit but shit it/s been a hard couple of weeks for me. & i was drunk & pissy & fed up & i watched mateo roll smoke after smoke for him & so i told him that was it. so i rolled myself a nice little cigarette &...
anyway. i rarely drink anymore. let me rephrase. i have a beer every now & then. but it/s no longer like it was in college. i/m getting older, i can feel it. my body can/t snap back as fast as it used to. a night on the town equals a night of pain & pissy-ness the next day. suffice it to say, new years was a day of recovery.
i think i/m depressed again. & i don/t know what to do about it. & poor remy. i thought moving in here would make things better. it has. it has. don/t get me wrong. i am a thousand times more happy here than i was in vichy. living in vichy was seriously hell. every night was sleepless, most days was friendless & funless, adventureless. what happened to me? but still, here in this apartment i can call my own i have no motivation. i don/t ever even want to get out of bed in the morning. i/m not like that. what happened?
i don/t know which of my emotions are real & which are forced anymore. i can/t tell real from fake, i confuse dream & reality & lately my dreams are not exactly roses & sunshine.
is this just winter? or is there something deeper here? i feel like i/m constantly falling. & i/m not afraid, because i know there is nothing below me but more emptiness. it/s just that falling this quickly is not such a pleasant sensation & i want it to stop.
happy new year.
a few words about miss chelsea elizabeth...
oregon-born, seattle-raised, bellingham-bred and franco-refined, she had moved back to the states from her affairs across the atlantic & now resides in columbia city with french husband & love of her life rémy. they spend most of their time taming the garden, taking care of their three chickens & two cats, and preparing the urban homestead for a new little chick of their own.
3 comments:
i love you.
zoe loves you too.
i'd say we're moving into one of the hardest stages of life, one of MAJOR transitions. & i think being in a foreign country only magnifies that disparity between what you want, what you think you want and where you're actually heading...it's all quite confusing, of couse. i think maybe winter isn't the season for new things & resolutions- it's a time of dark days & waiting & resting. with spring will come rejuvenation & sun & growing. that's the natural cycle of the world, so maybe things aren't working cuz they're not ready to unfurl yet...i dunno if that made much sense, but you know i love you & i'm always here for you.
bises,
nat
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