This quote is a little reminder to myself and anyone else out there to keep going. Pardon the tone/mood of this blog post. This blog is about my journey and this post demonstrates that my path is not always a bucket full of sunshine….
Sometimes I hit lows that seem to suck the life right out of me, everything seems wrong. Every attempt seems futile. All the positive thinking in the world and coping exercises seem pointless, because my very soul has turned into a black hole. I avoid contact with those around me because I have no desire to drag them down in this state.
Life right now appears hopeless. However, there is a miniscule fragmant of hope. There is a tiny whisper telling me it’s not the end; that this state of dire despair will not last – it is not the end.
Friday night, I went out with friends (I figured it would lift my spirits, I was already on the verge of losing my “happy”) I had a wonderful time, but near the end of my night any resiliency I had left regarding life was lost. The personal battle I was fighting inside trying to fend off the feeling of death was lost it.
I arrived home Friday sobbing in my car and cried for a solid 3 hours working myself up to a point where I couldn’t breathe. When I finally went to bed … I had no desire to wake up. I had no desire to be alive; life and all of it’s difficulties seemed endless. Everything I thought I had a grip on slipped out of my grasp. Saturday I woke up at 7pm, I ate a bowl of cereal and I went back to sleep until Sunday at 10:30 am.
Sleep is an escape. And I admit I use it whenever I hit this particular low. Nothing anyone says seems to appease my lost mind and heart. Disconnecting is my best chance of coming out of this scenario with the least collateral damage possible. Talking or crying over what seems like “not a big deal” is the last thing to bring me comfort. Or rather laying emotionless as someone tries to offer you advice that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of your broken soul. Alone. It’s safer for both parties.
Yes, there’s logic screaming in the back of my mind saying sleep and avoidance aren’t the answer; I should know better. But sometimes it’s exhausting “knowing better”. It’s exhausting continually self evaluating, self checking, reporting my emotions to doctors, it’s exhausting following a routine, it’s exhausting containing explosive feelings because they would overwhelm the average Joe.
It’s exhausting… so I sleep until I feel like it’s not so exhausting. I isolate myself until I feel like I can get a grip, I keep to myself until I feel like the world is not going to explode.
These bad days are not the end. They are just a few days that make it seem like the end. The bad days that try to undermine and destroy all the good ones. But the magic pill for these malicious self harm and condemning thoughts is I write things down. I have hard evidence that reminds me I was happy I am a happy person. I know what it’s like to love life. To love the progress and work I’ve put into having a happy life…. it’s just right now for this period of time that I feel a prisoner within the walls of my own body. But I’ll escape and the journey will continue.