Moments to live in

Tonight everything is fleeting. I started to post about how Tori Amos' "Jupiter" reminds me of a time in my life when I was always running for rescue, then I started reflecting on my recurring fear that even though I don't ask for it any more, perhaps I still need to be rescued.

A few years ago I walked out of an office defined as a girl with a propensity for dangerous situations, self mutilation, and a fairly good chance of taking her own life. It was all true, and I decided I wouldn't behave inside the limits of those paragraphs in DSM-IV-R anymore, and that changed the course of my life. I accepted responsibility for my own choices and reactions, and left every one else to their own.

Frankly, though I have learned to colour inside the lines of normal the fact that I should still want to curl up inside "Jupiter" or any good song and die, and a little thing could set my day on a completely new axis, and mostly that I'm becoming someone different makes me worry that all that really happened after I walked away from my mental health professionals was I learned what not to do, and instead created new symptoms for the DSM-V.

Those quirks of my personality are the perks of knowing me, but for me each one trails the question on which my sanity hinges. How far can you go without being too far away from normal?

A friend once told me "You don't understand what it's like to be me, you walk into a room and everyone looks at you" and I felt sad for her, because that's no place to live. Even though I revelled in being different, after while being the entertainment got tired. If there were a place where there was no "why?" and no consequence I wouldn't give even a tiny shit, but there isn't and really I just want to fit in.

No matter how hard you try who you are always sneaks in (apparently especially in your blog), so I alternate between the 100% and the scaled back me. Which now that I think of it is actually kinda crazy.