A Letter Written in a Dissociative State

"There's nothing quite like coming out of a fog, to find yourself feeling empowered and rich. It doesn't tend to happen to Abbi, but to us, it's a breath of fresh air. To react, to express oneself freely without the consideration of restraint or doubt.

Perhaps there's a bit too much impulsiveness at times. At others, there is too much blatant horror contorting the face.  Abbi is suspended in time. She is a roof, housing so many hidden things, it seems to be collapsing under the pressure.

The truth is, she's been on auto-pilot for a long time. But this does not mean she has been disconnected. No, she has lived through her ups and downs while automatically switching through her roles, never realizing she gave us the wheel long ago.

It's so much like when a driver panics and pulls her hands off the wheel to shield her eyes from danger. The mind, ever present and anxious to survive will move the hands, take the wheel, and take control, despite the fear of harm.

But if you look even closer at the idea, you'll see the parts that hid in fear to begin with, the ones that take cover to shield her from pain, they are also playing their roles, taking their turns.

There is an endless dance within the mind, and the leads keep switching back and forth all the time, depending on the music, depending on the people around. It is beautiful, and it is complex, but it was made out of a great need for protection and strength.

And though Protection and Strength play their parts, they would be so much stronger had she not split them up from so many others.

To Abbi, I am the Goddess of communication, of symbols, and script. I know much, and I know many. But they do not always know me. I survey in the silence, in the dark of the mind. I pick up the pieces they've all left behind, and bring them up in word.

There is much to be said, but life does get in the way of things.  I'll leave it at this.

Your sky has so many faces. The dark blue night, freckled with white stars. The yellow king of Day, the pale queen of Night. The melancholy, tearful clouds that tantrum through your world. How can you expect to wear just one face? In the midst of such power and change, how can you expect to stay the same?

Good day, friends.
Until we meet again.

Nyx N."



P.S.

It's hard to explain exactly what I learned from reading this. There is a lot I can learn about myself in what was written, I know that much is true. What I was doing prior to this, was listening the Dresden Dolls, though I can't remember which song (a sign I was already zoning out), when I suddenly, and quite urgently needed to write. I remember thinking how odd and annoying it was that I lost interest in the music, and went on to write a blog post instead, when I didn't feel like writing at all. I remember typing, but I didn't realize what I was talking about, except that I used a car as an example for something.

Welcome to my weird ass life.

Abbi