broken mirror
A few months ago, my system split Daphne into Fig and swallowed Daphne whole, leaving me confused about why the name I love(d) no longer felt "right." Now I'm Fig, but who are they? And where is the instruction manual for reconstructing your identity again and again because it shatters like clockwork? I can't answer either question. Sometimes it feels like my love for Dionysos is all that survived and I'm desperately digging through the rubble of myself to find the rest of me. What if there's no "rest of me" to find?
I didn't mean to spend my last day with Dionysos (31 May) anxious and weeping, but feeling anxious and weeping is just what you do when the reality of your flimsy existence finally sinks in. Some days I'm no one at all. I wake up, I eat, I laugh at a friend's joke, I cuddle my cat, and I stare blankly at my bedroom walls, wondering why I chose that shade of blue. I'm haunted by an emptiness I can barely understand, let alone explain to somebody else. I'm caught in the rubble. I'm stuck, and I'm not sure how to climb out
Do you know what it's like to watch your spirituality slip through your fingers like sand? Everything you believe(d), everything you love(d), everything in which you find (found) hope or joy: watch it fall away grain by grain because you *literally* aren't who you were last year, last month, yesterday. When I begged Dionysos to reveal the mystery, because surely he must have the answer, he said, "That's not my business." He wouldn't tell me. Perhaps even god doesn't know. Perhaps I am Theseus at the heart of the labyrinth, the Minotaur slain, and I must follow the thread back out
I find myself on my knees in the dark, squeezing the sharp pieces of myself, my practice, my past while trying not to bleed out from touching their edges. I hold everything and nothing inside me. I know everything about myself and nothing at all. I listen to the trees outside my bedroom window sing a song from my youth as their leaves dance in the wind. I chose that shade of blue because it reminds me of my childhood bedroom, the colour I chose when I was placed in my grandparents' care. Just like her, I'm starting new. I'm holding the thread