knit me this

knit me this
Current mood:  bummed 

 

 

i recently took up a hobby that i find therapeutic. keeps my hands occupied, my mind calm and i get to make shit that looks purty. i have taught myself the art of crochet. yes, my nerdy undercoating is beginning to show. but fuck, it helps me get through some of the shenanigan's that go on around here.

as i was diligently working on a project this morning, in an effort to avoid my shitty ass day, i remembered something my mother told me a while ago. she has also been hit by the fiber bug and has been knitting like a fool lately so the metaphor is fresh in both of our minds.

the damage that i have done to myself over the years is not going to be undone overnight. like pulling a yarn on a sweater, it will not unravel immediately but row by meticulous row. each stitch is an individualized part of something larger. every single stitch was made and now needs to be unmade. so as much as we want that sweater to become undone and no longer be a sweater, it doesn't happen overnight. it takes just as long to unfuck it as it did to fuck it up. takes a while to wind that ball of yarn back up.

for me i don't want to remake that sweater. i want a new, individualized version of that sweater. something brighter, sweeter, prettier. it was way too heavy to begin with, never fit properly and didn't show off my voluptuous figure. i do however find a great deal of value in the yarn. my fibers are still sturdy and perfectly good. a little tattered, yes. i am definitely tattered and worn. on the inside and out. the inside is starting to come back together, or apart however the case may be. i'm already well on my way to rebuilding myself from deep down thanks to some serious love and support from so many that i hold so dear. the rebuilding of the exterior is another blog in and of itself but in due time.

however, the more and more that i unravel this shitty ass sweater, the more and more knots and tattered edges i find. it surprises me, really. it definitely wasn't stitched with care or love but was fucked up from the very first loop. i get to the end of the yarn and think, what more? what now? and then poof, there's more and it's even worse than the last row of stitches. fuck me! took me off guard just a few days ago when i was hit below the belt yet again. every time i think i'm at the end of the yarn, there's another ball waiting to be unfucked. i'm exhausted trying to unfuck my life and trying to handle all that it involves, including that piece of shit excuse of a man who did a good amount of the damage.

days like today make me feel like i should have left the sweater alone. i know that's not the real way that i feel but goddamn, give me a fucking break already! i would love just one small piece of stability or normalcy or a long uninterrupted pity party. maybe that's what i need. to hermit myself in my dark little hole and wallow for a while. i haven't done it in a while and perhaps it's just another part of the process. another unwinding, untangling, pulling out the stitches.