From 5ead26b0052a294b976b1f822baaf95bbe776f54 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Wed, 2 Jun 2021 23:20:10 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/53.html | 4 ++++ 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+) diff --git a/writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/53.html b/writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/53.html index d35e9076f..5fcc1316a 100644 --- a/writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/53.html +++ b/writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/53.html @@ -14,6 +14,10 @@

I had to stop, yesterday. I had to stop writing.

I don’t know why that memory left me in tears, paws shaking too much to write. I don’t even know why I decided to commit that memory to this journal. I started this project with the goal of trying to suss out my thoughts and feelings surrounding Kay, and yet I keep writing about this. I keep writing about God or the Church or leaving Saint John’s.

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I walked around the neighborhood afterward, trying to calm down, breathe deeply, be present. I did all the things I tell my patients to do when they panic, and I suppose some of it worked. I was at least able to look at the ground, look at the sky, look at the grass and trees and buildings and not feel this unnamed emotion.

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If I had any doubt that Jeremy was right in suggesting journaling, I think it has been well and truly dashed by now.

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This feeling, then. It is somewhere between shame and guilt. It has that bitter-savory flavor to it. It makes my fur feel clumped and matted.

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If I cannot decide