Clarity

Dear Self,

It's amazing what a good cry can do. Thanks.

Where do we go from here?

There has been an uneasy truce going on for a while, and it feels as though I'm just waiting for a catalyst. I have noticed that everything has felt dimmer and sharper at the same time. I'm not sure what this means; I'm not getting a bad feeling about it, which worries me a little.

On a more concrete note: I watched the PBS documentary "Depression: Out of the Shadows" (http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/takeonestep/depression/about.html) on Wednesday and thought that it was beautifully done. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to understand more about depression. I'll try to post a more comprehensive review later, perhaps by updating this post.

I'm currently working on a poem/song. (I say poem/song because in my head, it's set to a tune.) I like it.

Back to falsity.

Nausea

I feel ill. And possibly suicidal. But hey, Bono says:

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass.

-- U2, "Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of"

Hiding

Something my mother said brought me another step closer to understanding why I fell apart then. Why I'm falling apart now. I'm most certain that wasn't her intent. She told me to stop being a turtle. That's the literal translation. Stop being a head-ducking turtle. The idiom, however, translates better as "Quit being a coward. Don't be a lily-livered fraidy cat. Face your problems."

It all sounds so simple. So straightforward. So easy.

It explains so much. Yeah, I'm a coward. I never thought there'd be a day when I willingly admitted to it, except I did. It's always so hard to convey what I'm afraid of, and what I'm feeling, and words never speak as loud as actions. Or rather, saying out loud that I'm afraid of rejection and I feel despair and then not doing anything about it... it's hard to get across the complexity of everything.

So it's easier to hide. In books, in TV shows, in fanfiction... even in news. Anywhere but here. Anywhere that I can be someone who isn't me. Anywhere that I can be someone who has a purpose.

//----------------------------

I'm coming back to this post 10 hours later. Not that it really matters. Life, I mean. Purpose or not, what's there to do but live it? And so what if I'm tired? I'll take a break. It doesn't matter that I have a great job, or any of that. If it's wearing me out, then maybe it's not right for me. I've tried so hard to make it work, but if it doesn't fit, then no amount of denial is going to change the outcome.

Maybe I'll make it. Maybe I won't. Maybe this step is a piece of some larger destiny that will stoke my hero complex. Or maybe... maybe it's just life.

Confusion

Not two hours ago, I was all set to post a nice miserable entry about my ongoing battle with myself, and how I'm losing.

Not thirty minutes ago, I was ready to put up a heartwarming entry on finding hope in the darkest of places, and the resilience of human nature, and not being a quitter.

Well, I'm not nearly as emo as I was two hours ago. Neither am I as hopeful as I was half an hour ago. I'm somewhere in between, and I hope that this is a baseline mood that can be maintained for the next month. If it gets worse than this, all the pressure will cause me to crack like a raw egg. Running yolks will ensue.

I'm trying to make light of the situation, but really, honestly, I'm tired.