Almost everything I do, I do with a level of intensity that most people don’t have, and a lot of people don’t like.
I joke about only being able to write when I’m in pain. I talk about this often. I was even speaking to someone about this recently and we agreed that writing and poetry helps to process feelings, which is what drives that correlation.
Even when I’m not heartbroken, I’m drawn to write when I’m swimming in a magnitude of emotions. If I am feeling overwhelmingly happy, overwhelmingly in love, I can’t contain the intensity of it all. I need to write. I need to create. I’m inspired to do something.
Big emotions, even the good ones, can be too much for me to feel or contain without spilling it out somewhere. And I often spill it out into my writing.
Naturally, I write as much as I can to better understand my emotions, but I take the same approach to try to have another person better understand my emotions.
I love the quote that says “everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it”.
The level of intensity that I give at the start of a connection is the same wave of intensity that hits me at the end.
When I’m in the bargaining stage of grief, there are so many words. I’m bargaining with someone, and also largely bargaining with myself, and there are so many wordssssssssssssssssss. Bargaining usually looks like me trying my hardest to be understood. Overthinking everything, wondering what ifs, trying to also be understanding, and trying my hardest to be understood.
The closer I come to the dream, the harder it is to release. I want to try everything I can to hold onto it and work at it because I don’t want to waste the potential of what more could be.
I have high walls, boundaries, and levels of skepticism because there is a lot to protect. Once I open that up and give myself, I am lost. I need care and attention and support in large quantity. I need it consistently. I am fragile and I break easily. Any shift, any shake, and those intense emotions will come out like a riptide.
And when it’s time to let go, the tide is just as strong.
This is the part that is hard to give away or unmask.
Once I open that barrier, it can be overwhelming to see, experience, and for anyone to meet those parts of me.
But I need to be met.
I need to be met in my emotions. I need to be met in my intensity. I need to be met in my thoughts. I need to be met in my passion. I need to be met in my mess. I need to be met in my words.
This is who I am. I don’t exist in normal. I am the fire.
And once I am met, I will give you everything.
Instead of worry or tears, the oceans bring love, hope, light, joy. The intensity that surrounds us makes a beautiful life.
Z's Comfort Zone 