I can feel the flames

It occurs to me I exist as contradictions.

Somehow that first line reminds me of a Pablo Neruda poem "It happens I am tired of being a man". It's probably just me that makes such a connection. I want to start reading more poetry though, I like how it affects my thoughts and my writing. I need to read more altogether. I love the feeling of being stimulated and lying awake at night wondering about the man from Porlock and what have you. I doubt that will mean much to anyone, but this is a preamble anyway.

The point was, contradictions.

I came here originally intending to write something like maybe it's the meds I'm on, but I actually feel okay with myself and with the world and so on. Not like fully okay, but on the scale of 1 to 10 that my irritating counsellor likes to make to get me to pin down feelings and thoughts, I'd have moved up a place or two.

And the thing is, I do feel like that. I want to do stuff -- like rock climb, and swim, and chase stories and write poetry (if I had any inspiration) and even paint, if I ever get around to it. I even find myself looking at watercolour paintbrushes to buy. The morning might be a different story, but right now that's how I describe my general feeling.

Which is good, right?

It would be, but while that is true I suddenly remember that I cut myself yesterday. It's not worth going into, it was a largely trivial chain of events and miscommunication -- but I felt like cutting myself, so I did. And last night, despite things being resolved and what have you, I still dreamed of suicide.

Last night I dreamed that I tried to burn myself alive.

I have never considered this idea for suicide -- and believe me, when I'm in one of my moods although I might not intend to hurt myself the various ways that I could do are explored in my head. I haven't once ever had the idea like I saw in my dream, where I set fire to a room around me so that I would have no way of escaping. I felt the flames burn me, although I think in the dream I changed my mind and I possibly somehow put out the flames.

The images and the feelings have stayed with me all day. Not feelings of wanting to hurt myself, but the feelings I felt in the dream, and I can almost feel the sensation of the fire on my skin again.

So that's how I mean. I feel more alive and wanting to engage in society and be active. Maybe not content or happy quite yet, but definitely with a certain kind of serenity and heading that way. But at the same time, I can take a pair of scissors to my own skin -- even if with the circumstances and position and whatever I managed little more than a slightly bloody scratch, and I can have vivid dreams of voluntarily burning myself alive.

I'm going to go do something offline now, or else I will dwell on these thoughts which would be a bad thing before sleep.