So this kind of awake is different than my normal bout with restlessness…
I move about my apartment aimlessly “looking” for things to do.
I add quotations because if I really wanted to do something I have a white board full of a list that’s only a few hours old.
I have things to do.
I never stop having these things to do.
But my mind seems to only move my body half of the time and the other half I’m in quicksand, or at least it feels that way.
When you are depressed who can you call in the middle of the night to talk you up and out of your misery?
I really would like to know your answer. I know not everyone will have one.
I am included in the without category. I talk to God. Sometimes I just cry. Other times I can’t pressurize a tear from my sockets and instead I feel like I’ve drank an entire bottle of lidocaine.
From the pineal gland down I’m almost petrified.
This time I just cried and tried to dance my sorrows to another dimension but it gets a bit heavy here with just my thoughts and the sound of my own turmoil and stress creeping up behind me.
I breathe deep irregularly throughout the day trying to make this an every breath thing. It’s a work in progress much like my life but it does seem to help some.
Nico is sleep so I don’t have his constant liveliness to keep me distracted from my deafening inability to just…. well… do.
I know how I’ve gotten here and that’s not necessarily the issue. So many different stings made this tapestry I’m just figuring out how to move on to the next seam to begin a new one. It is difficult to say the least but I know not impossible.
This morning I wonder how often my own mother cried in the first two years of my life? What were her thoughts? Trivial or deep, it doesn’t matter really. I just want to know how she made it through with all of her trials and tribulations that she had while caring for another life source? More importantly I want to know where her strength came from? Whether or not she believed in her own strength is of little consequence because I know of her strength and resilience. I am familiar with my own as well.
We are strong yet not unbent and although sometimes withered our roots reach the freshest of waters.
I am coming out of the most traumatic times of my life up-until now and to make it clear; coming out is a journey in and of itself. A complete and utter exodus.
For anyone who is also in a dismal state of being at the moment know that the trek to being whole and renewed in strength and self reliance is not a short one. Settle in and push forward. I am trying the best way I know how and even then that fails me but I can say that everyday is worth a try. Some days are way more trying than others and some might as well have not even happened considering the grandiose lack of effort I put forth but in those times when I think I’m beyond repair I remember that a tree chopped down to its roots can still spring a leaf.
At the very least give yourself some water and some sunshine to get the process a kick start.
Love yourself. It’s the best therapy yet. You are not alone. I’m am right there in the thick of things with you love.