"I wish I could just stop going through transformations"

...I said to a friend via chat tonight, and it made me think about what has triggered creative prosperity in my life vs. what has actually made me happy.

The creative emotional high that fueled me full speed through the writing of Acclamation happened at the expense of basically everything else in my life. Everything was falling apart around me, really, so I suppose I figured "why not?"

The way substance addiction and altered states tear apart some people and their interpersonal relationships, the same thing seemed to happen to me over the course of a couple of years as I devoted myself to writing, only writing, nothing more. Work was a boring, sometimes exhilarating but always predictable interlude between bouts of it. I gave into it fully. I'm still dubious about the payoff, as I sit here years (it has been!) later in a rented room, waiting for the debris to settle yet again and hoping I will land on my feet and I try to rebuild, again.

I've been transforming for about five years. I still have no idea who I am. I've discovered so much, I've awakened so much within myself, I've become more careful and more reckless at the same time, I've LEARNED and I've been trying to reconcile the things I know and the principles I have with how much concession I'm willing to give to people who might not understand that.

It sort of sucks. I was happy before, when I was comfortable. And now I don't even have the capacity to write. I've been moving too fast, while the ideas and the notions of great words fly around in my head, in images and occasionally in passages when I can't do a thing about it.

There's something to be said for ruts, for being stuck, for an existence that seems boring on the surface. Too much tumult has left me bereft. I don't feel like I have much energy to give, right now.

And the most painful thing is that now I have to turn around and look at the swathe I left in my path, while I was in that zone.