I revealed something I shouldn’t have.  Again.

I have a compulsion.  I want to tell.  This urgency to fill the silence, to connect in words.

It’s not to create illness or spread gossip.  I want to reveal and tell because that is the only intimacy I have; I am so void of connections.

And humans need intimacy.  Not just sex.  Sex is boring.  The soul’s intimacy is revelations embraced.  Sometimes, I do feel this even when I am quiet.  It is so rare!  I can only count on one hand the times I have felt such content in silence, such peace.  It was at least two years ago when I had felt this way.  It was a sunny day and I was walking in a parking lot and I suddenly felt so at peace and that I truly needed nothing more except to exist in this.  And the worry and persistent low level annoyance with living was gone.  And it occurred to me that I was happy.

I wish I could live in that moment every day.  Sometimes I try to figure it out – maybe I ate the right thing that day or did something different.  I was trying a different diet at the time but it later caused problems (waking at 3 a.m. feeling anxious – I always slept the whole night without any anxiety).  But most days are full of fear and various symptoms of malingering illness which there is no help for.

My deepest desire is intimacy.  But I feel like I am truly intimate with no one.

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