melancholy in L.A.

April 10, 2020

I feel so uncomfortable. Something about being here in L.A. is bringing out restlessness and melancholia in me.

I’m uncomfortable with my loneliness. I miss being able to hold people and let them hold me. It used to be my default. I’m uncomfortable with my insecurity and with my sexuality. I know it’s important to grieve past selves so that you can move on, but going forward I don’t want to be this person. I want to feel confident like I used to be, to stop feeling like I can’t be sexy or that I’m not attractive or sensual or seductive. I want to stop feeling so alone, like such a loser.

I can’t even put a finger on exactly what I feel is missing, whether from me or from my life in general, but I just don’t feel like I’m living the right life or that the right life is available to me. I’m still so confused about everything with the Magician. Our love genuinely felt to me like the culmination of all the past and future meeting at the exact right time and place. Being with him finally made me feel whole. I didn’t even realize how un-whole I felt until I met him; then everything in my life felt warm and complete.

I have no idea how to be someone I like, to feel the deep satisfaction of the sun on my face like I used to. I feel like I’ve lost my spark, my sense of grounding and worth, and my inherent belief that I’m deserving of respect, of taking up “too much” space, making “too much” noise. I’ve lost the attributes and demeanor of someone who has never had her love and her trust in others abused and then trashed.

I feel like my soul has died, and I can’t imagine being able to restore it. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve actually healed.

I’ve lost my humor and my charisma because I have NO confidence.

I really feel like the Magician destroyed me, and maybe the loss of sexual confidence is the worst of all, because I feel like I’m back in middle school.

When will those wounds heal?
When will I be restored?

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