Yesterday She wrote:
Every day She tries rolling the boulders off of her. The days when they are round are easier.
But lately it seems She got stuck with the square ones. They are so heavy, sitting there perfectly balanced, flattening her and stealing her breath with their straight, immovable sides.
She drags herself and the pesky boulders to meet a friend for coffee where she's innocently asked, "How are you doing with your depression?"
The boulders start to feel heavier, and push her a little deeper into the Earth, but she replies,
"Oh, I'm doing fine."
"Oh, I'm doing fine."
The boulders splinter and multiply.
"I'm doing fine."
She looks at the last page of the calendar, the end of a year arriving without her permission.
All of those things she wanted to do, still left undone.
Paralyzed, buried deeper. More boulders.
"For crying out loud", she screams, "will somebody please get these boulders off of me. I can't breathe!!" Then the weight becomes too much, the boulders too heavy and they reduce her to dust, scattering her plea into the wind.
****Today She (as in Me) tries to bring it into context, but as I sit here with my hands poised over the keyboard, the words are waging war with each other in my head over who will be first to ride an electrical impulse down my arm and manipulate the keys, thus springing to life on this page.
I've started this post a number of times already this morning, and I'm afraid my _backspace_key is going to report me for abuse. I'm sorry _backspace_, I'm a little frustrated and didn't meant to take my aggression out on you.
If I were to succumb to a stream of consciousness and just write until I collapse then this is what might result:
What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I sitting here looking at my calendar and wondering where the year went? Why is it that December is upon me, arriving without my permission and demanding to know why the hell I wasted an entire year of my life? Why is it that all my thoughts are jagged pieces of glass that don't fit together, as if they were collected from someone else and put into my brain? They don't fit...they aren't mine!! They don't listen to me when I ask them to be specific, to be cohesive and organized. Why can't I shake this funk, feeling down and seeing in shades of blue instead of the rosy hue I love so much? Why can't I remove myself from this chair, this house and accomplish something? Should I take the doctor up on her offer for a small dose of Ritalin, will it help me find my own thoughts? Will medication motivate me to go back to school? Why is going back to school suddenly so horrifying and the last possible thing I want to do? When will I stop avoiding mirrors and the hateful dialog in my head? Will medication help that? Will it stop me from being paralyzed by all the things I want to accomplish and keep me from shutting down and doing nothing? What will stop the bickering between my rational and irrational brain? Why can't I shake this blue feeling? Why can't I like myself or cut myself some slack? Maybe, because that's ALL I've been doing lately. When...WHEN...will I stop disengaging and start participating in this whole fucking LIFE thing? Enough already! And yes, I said 'fuck' twice (now 3 times), because it's a very fuck-fuck-fuckity-fuckit sort of dialog going on in my head and I just want it to stop harassing me! Fuck! I'm just so wrung out and deflated and exhausted and tired and angry at myself and frustrated and...fed up with my own whining.
So, apparently ^^^THIS^^^is what results when I give in and just write what is happening inside my brain. She (as in Me) cannot fathom how Mind Over Matter Girl has become a prisoner of her own self.
I can't figure out how to end this post. I keep assaulting my_backspace_ button. So, I'll just end here and take some satisfaction that the words can now battle it out here, giving my head some time to figure out how to make my thoughts get in line and behave.