Journal: Words

Words are a thing.

We use them for expressing how we feel, most of the time at least. The problem is, what happens when what you are feeling is so bundled up and curled in upon yourself that you have no words? What happens then? What if you are feeling so much that you are just overwhelmed with it all and want to hide away from everything? What can words do then?

Words become sounds in that situation. They become screams and groans, howls and sobs. They become scrunched up stomach muscles and explosions of tears. They change into confused glances and worried nails, colours and swirling images in your mind. They choke you and cause lumps in your throat that make you have to swallow back what you wanted to say.

They make you hold in the “but I love you’s” and the “please help me’s”.

You have no words when your mind steals them from you. You become your own prison and your own torturer. Nothing can set it right because you have no way of saying what it is that is wrong. After you have kept the words squashed down and captive for a while they start to lose all sense of meaning. They start to become fearful and try to hide away when you begin to feel like you might be able to say something. They skitter like scared little spiders across your brain, into the dark places within your mind. They like the dark places. It’s safe there and they are amongst company that feels the same as they do.

The words become so good at hiding from you that you begin to wonder if they will ever come out. All you can do is cry and scream, and wonder why, why me? Why do I have to feel so much? Why do I have to hurt? Why do I have to love? Why can’t I be free from this? Why won’t the words just come out? Why do I have to be so scared?

Lately my life has changed a lot. I’m all for change, I love it and I have been so terribly happy that a crash was, I suppose, inevitable.

I’ve had so much joy and love come into my life that, well I guess I’m a bit overwhelmed. The crash still doesn’t feel good when it happens and has come at a very inconvenient time.

I suppose one of the main factors affecting me is that I’m not used to having people in my life. I have been rejected by 99% of those I have met and loved along the way and part of me is still terrified that this will happen again. My family and my other half are the only ones who haven’t run for the hills screaming because of who I am. They’ve seen all of me and gone ‘well, we still love you’. Every friend or partner I have ever had has at some point hit their limit. They have come across something about me that they didn’t like and left or tried to change it to fit what they want. I did something or said something that they couldn’t handle or disagreed with and, poof, I was alone again.

I’m ok with it now. I’m used to being alone. I like my own company and I truly am OK with who and what I am. I’m just…not used to others being ok with it as well. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the running and screaming to start.

Part of me is still walking on eggshells, trying to tiptoe her way through things so that everything good that has come into my life recently doesn’t go away again.

I know it’s foolish and completely counter-productive, but it’s happening and it’s not something that I’m consciously choosing to do. Learned behaviour takes time to unlearn and it will change eventually. Until that time comes I’ll just have to pay more attention and force myself to relax. If people leave, they leave. It’s not something I have control over. All I can do is be myself.

I know, at least, that I will always have Mela.

The other, rather smaller issue that’s happening right now is that I’m not used to having parts of my life I can’t talk about with other people. It’s very…weird. I think it’s taking me back to my early teenage years, when I was still in the closet and very unhappy about things. The only way to solve this issue is to, well, talk about it…but how do you talk to your family about going into a career in writing erotica? My family certainly aren’t prudes and they honestly wouldn’t care but they would also be mildly freaked out. The rest of the extended family would be happily appalled. The gossip would be epic. Mind you, it might drum up sales? They’d have to buy the books to be appalled at them… So yeah, words. I have too many of them and I need to find the right ones.

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Sophie J Clark

I'm the author of Getting Out: Escape is harder than he’d ever imagined and QP-id: Love, Sex and Nano-Machines. I'm currently in the process of writing my third book. All works can be found on Amazon under the name Sophie J Clark.

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