For the last few weeks my emotions have been as sloppy as a rock star roaming the streets of Camden, late on a Friday night.
Uncontrollable and completely inconsolable.
And I can’t seem to catch a break.
I have zero authority over their shenanigans; especially in regards to my treacherous tear ducts. They’ve not only threatened to leak during inappropriate moments but have gone as far as spilling at the most tasteless of times. I’m irrevocably powerless against them and completely at their mercy. I’ve shed most tears safely behind close doors but I’ve also weeped whilst out in public. For example, moments whilst driving in my car and when walking my dog alone in the park. Worst still whilst in the presence of people. Like weeping at the dinner table; parents and brother completely oblivious to my sombreness.
And while pessimistic thoughts have surely contributed to this botheration, I also understand that I am not in a favourable place. I am and have been inescapably overwhelmed and with life altering events set for the next few weeks fast approaching, they could either make or break me.
But back to those tears. They are no doubt an anxiety issue. One positive is that they’ve seemed to clear away a fog that’s made it undeniably clear that I am depressed.
That is awfully hard to admit to oneself considering the stigma against it. People avoid it, shy away from it, deny it. Treat it as if it’s contagious or as gruesome as the Black Plague.
Sadly, I know I do.
I’ve noticed similarities with this plight to one I battled ten years ago. Those same feelings of hopelessness and shame circulate within me while on the out a weight, a pressure, strains against my entire being. And while thoughts of suicide are entertained, there is a notable difference. Back then that depression and the thoughts it brought were purely bleak and as dark as night. But now, there is some lingering hope.
Somewhere. He hides from me.
Todays thoughts stem from sheer frustration. The thing is, I want to live. I actually, truthfully want to live! But I just can not continue taking verbal abuse from loved ones. I can not continue feeling so ashamed of my circumstances. I’m tired of that daily battle with finances and the pressure from others to squash the girl I’ve become.
I want a break; I want something to sate my thirst, if only temporary.
Because I fear I am losing consciousness and all about ready to surrender. I truly have no more fight within me, no fuel to keep me running. I’m trying to remain positive, sending requests and setting intentions only to be cruelly shot back down. And even though a denial is not a permanent “no”, I feel like the Universe is taunting me, handing me that loaded gun and daring me to pull the trigger. I am weighed down by blocks of some sort and what these blocks are I am not sure. But how I wish I knew how to remove them because I need to breathe. I need a break.
Enough is enough.