It's happening again.
The mad energy of six months ago has been replaced by a big fat snake of numbing doom. It crawled into my headspace again and changed all the locks to my mind. Damn it, I thought I had killed off this snake a long time ago. It's back with a vengeance.
And I'm in denial, big time.
I want to tell the truth, but can I? Am I too far gone to even acknowledge what's happening to me?
I dislike very much that category of writing that inspires pity. Because of this, I tend to avoid telling the truth. But I'm rotting inside, so I'm doing this now in the rare hope that by doing so, something, anything will change my mood. I can't remember when it started but it has been a few months I think.
I don't have the words to describe what is going on. I don't even know what it is or how to define it. But the longer I avoid it, the further down the pit I fall, so I guess this is one attempt, right now to change one thing.
I wake up out of a room that has scribblings all over its walls.
It used to be my room, but I let my daughter draw all over the walls. I told her that it was going to be "The Art Room", so everyone can create art in it. But now it's not really my room anymore and it just feels like a lunatic asylum, not a bedroom.
I walk across the bedroom, and step on a small plastic toy on the way. I curse, get angry, but don't exert the effort to get any of the remaining toys off the floor. The toy has made a shaped impression in the skin on the bottom of my foot. It still hurts.
Instead of giving myself enough time to properly make coffee and my daughter's lunch, I give myself only 15 minutes, preferring to remain unconscious for as much time as possible. I want to sleep away reality. I also let her sleep late, and have started driving her to school this year, instead of catching the bus. If she caught the bus, we would have to get up 30 minutes earlier. This is not really an option right now for either of us. Mornings are dreadful, always have been for me.
I begin biting the insides of my mouth the second I gain consciousness. I have a mix of horrible thoughts pass through my mind, mostly about money and how I will be going broke any day now. I begin freaking out about my job prospects and realize that I don't have more than one outfit for job interviews. I'm much better as a "remote employee". I talked to an entrepreneur friend recently who is uber energetic. She told me that I should start teaching at events or classes. I told her, "It's pretty hard to teach a class when you can't find the energy to leave your own house." She agreed with me.
Terrible thoughts are not as bad as the numbing thoughts.
These are thoughts that have no feeling, no direction, no nothing. They feel like they emerged from some mud vault and are contained within the movements of a sloth. When they finally hit me, they stick to my body, weighing me down with their sluggish energy, that must be a lot like dark matter, whatever that is. I wish I was funny or laughing right now. A semi-permanent upside down smile has moved into where my mouth used to be, and I really wish I was joking about all this. What the actual fuck. I wish I could get angry. That's gone too.
I slap my own face in the hopes that the numb sluggishness will simply roll off me, or will pass in due time. Several rationalization strategies move into my mind: maybe I'm just taking a break? Perhaps my energy will return once the winter has left? Everything will be fine, I'm just recovering from the last 4 months of whirlwind creative output.
The numbing doom snake in my mind says other things, though like: "You're going into a dark place from where you won't emerge alive".
Image: Pixabay
What should I do? I pray that my uniquely horrible mood will pass tomorrow. But tomorrow comes and goes and nothing changes inside me. I've been saying this same exact prayer for months now. It's still the same. Absolutely nothing is different.
I'm a pit of vacant doom and I'm still wearing the numb-filled down jacket. How can I live like this? I ask myself. Doctors, hmmmm.....I don't want to see a doctor. No go.
I have nothing inside but a vile mix of doom thoughts mixed with cardboard apathy. I desire nothing. What's left for me? Death? Yes, but it's too early to die. Plus, I don't even desire that. What then, will happen, or not happen?
I sign up for networking events that I never show up for. I look inside my past and don't recognize myself anymore. Everything I think about brings no joy. I try to think of something that brings me joy. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I feel nothing. Cardboard. Soggy gray oatmeal floats before my eyes.
I'm still waiting. I'm waiting for that tomorrow that will wipe away the numbing jacket.
Tomorrow comes. Still nothing. No change.
How did I get this way? What happened? Where is that person who visited horse island and was so glad to be alive?
I have no idea. Instead, I know about panic-inducing thoughts followed by dizziness. I know about piles of things on the floor and only an incredibly faint desire to exert the necessary energy to pick them up. I decide not to pick them up. Numbness wins. The thought of drugs enters my mind.........I could maybe start taking my Paxil again, to temporarily get back some energy? Obviously, I can't think clearly enough to follow up on this plan. Literally nothing is making sense to me.
The withered hand of tomorrow will come and go.
I sit, numb and vacant.
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