„I have often confused feeling nothing with being okay. When I am very busy, I tend to listen to all my music on shuffle, although I usually hate that and prefer to choose an album or even artist to listen to in the right order. When I‘m busy, I shuffle through all of them to listen to the loudest songs, and I don‘t have a book with me. I also don‘t sleep when I have to, and I don‘t even feel tired. Everything seems to feel okay, but actually, it does simply not feel too bad.“
My witch listens to my monologue after the moonlight woke me from my unplanned evening nap. „Shouldn‘t you just continue sleeping?“, she asks.
„Shhh!“
„Because it feels like nothing“, I continue. „Everything feels like eating a snack, but you‘re so distracted, you don‘t remember what it tastes like afterwards, and I hate that. I can‘t write in that state.“
And I much too often keep falling into it again. Maybe it‘s because I also know the other side of it, and have often felt so much, I couldn‘t handle it.
„My therapist wanted me to always mute every emotion, because he said that would be the only way for me to get through life“, I remind my witch as if she had not been there. „I was never allowed to laugh too much, or to cry when there even was a reason. I was supposed to eat a chili pepper, because otherwise I was to blame for my state of mind.“
„Toxic boyfriends are one thing, but toxic doctors are the real shit“, my witch giggles. „Definitely the better witching feature!“ And she sighs deeply. „Mine wanted me to keep my eyes closed during the days in my second pregnancy, because all the colours of the world could upset me.“ And there is this hysteric giggling once more.
It‘s not like he was totally wrong. Only a few days ago, I had to attend a meeting with people I was kind of nervous about. It was between professors and students within the very small and specialized master program which I had been accepted into to my biggest surprise, and I was so nervous about attending, I hid behind a bush, looking at the others through the branches and began typing a text message for myself about why I felt like I could not go (and afterwards I still went). My emotions get in the way of things. Still I need them.
„I need a coffee“, I tell my witch. „An Iced Vanilla Latte, a pretty dress, the sun on my skin, and hours just to sulk and write!“
If I don‘t get that and I don‘t write, I feel as numb as if I am already dead.
„Not going to happen if you don‘t sleep!“
Mistress witch writes 