During these episodes, symptoms occur most of the day, nearly every day and may include:
- Feelings of sadness, emptiness or unhappiness. Check. That's constant. It's just... dude, what is there in the world that could satisfy the holes in my heart? Really? Everything changes, shifts, slides out of reach. There is nothing fulfilling on this planet. I really would like to shift planes, please.
- Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters. I do get frustrated now, sadly often, and I say things like, "I used to be so patient and kind..." I've just had enough.
- Loss of interest or pleasure in normal activities, such as sex. When I can't even summon the energy to reach for the game controller to turn on the Xbox, that's pretty bad.
- Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much. This comes and goes. Most often it's just that I fall asleep suddenly. Lately I've been wondering if it's a deeper part of my mind burning off stuff/fixing my energy/realigning things. Yes, seriously.
- Tiredness and lack of energy, so that even small tasks take extra effort. Like getting out of bed to go to work, or taking a shower on a day off? Or turning on a computer/TV/game system? Mmm. Check.
- Changes in appetite — often reduced appetite and weight loss, but increased cravings for food and weight gain in some people. Check.
- Anxiety, agitation or restlessness — for example, excessive worrying, pacing, hand-wringing or an inability to sit still. Mental rather than physical, often getting wrapped up in my thoughts so completely I don't realize hours have gone by.
- Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements. Yeah.
- Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or blaming yourself for things that are not your responsibility. Not so much that I'm worthless, but that nothing I could do could ever matter/make any difference. So what's the use in anything?
- Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things. My memory has really been depleted.
- Frequent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide. I don't think I'd ever commit suicide but that's mostly because I don't think it actually solves anything. It's a momentary respite. You still come back anyway, and I'd rather be getting completely out of the physical morass forever. I think about the life beyond the physical a lot, but there's no rush in getting there.
- Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches. Dread and nausea. Lots of that.
Hahaha episodes? Episodes end. This is always.
Two young acquaintances of mine killed themselves in the last few months and I just heard of another young man who I did not know personally. I have no doubt they are in a soothing, loving place now, and yes, I even envy them a bit. But that part is inevitable. I know I have things I'm supposed to be doing here.
And that "supposed to be" feeling is the hardest part about living here. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to live. I know I need to get away from the job that is making me nauseous daily before I go there. I'm getting nauseous thinking about it right now.
People talk about having passion and to follow it, and I don't feel like I have passion for anything. I have things that I do, things that feel like an engrained part of me. I write. I draw, I surround myself with crystals, I burn lots of incense, I wish madly that I was a sorcerer dwelling in some sacred site where the ley lines of the planet converged and opened into other dimensions. Writing is an escape.
I need a new kind of existence. One that does not depend on being a mechanical cog in a heirarchical machine. I am a being whose lifeblood is joy and awe. I am starving.
I know a bunch of people, if they read this, they would say, go see a doctor. Get treated. Get your brain chemicals in order. No, sorry. No thank you. I'm trying to stay on the planet a little longer and not be done in by brain chemicals being thrown so completely out of wack that I forget that all this pain is an illusion.
I am actually better than I have been in a long time. It's been a few months since I actually felt hopeless. I do have some hope for something. Self-reflection always makes me feel so much worse, and I think it's because it's a false self upon which I'm focusing. This life doesn't matter. This life of wake, work, and sleep, with the only respite being two days off that I spend too weary to do the things I've been looking forward to all week. I can do without it in a moment.
I'm afraid to. I'm afraid of failing as an author, which is why I don't push harder for people to find out about my books. I'm afraid of people. I'm afraid of human beings. I do not feel like one of them. I know we're all the same underneath it all, regardless of our planet or plane of origin, but human beings are some of the most extraordinary and horrible beings I've ever imagined. I'm afraid of them. I'm afraid of having negativity directed toward me. I'm afraid of no one understanding. I'm afraid of having hope and being disappointed. I'm afraid that the only thing I've ever done that I really feel proud of is wrapped up in my identity and if it is negatively viewed that it is an attack on me as well.
It's all ridiculous for an infinite eternal being to be concerned about. But I am, because I think I'm a person. I think I'm one of the beings of which I am most afraid. No one is as horrible to me as I am. They couldn't be. No one knows how to hurt me like I do.
And I have to forgive myself for being limited, for being so small in mind and consciousness, for wanting to cradle the universe's wonders in my skull, and going on through the rest of my life thirsting for starlight in my soul. I have to forgive myself for believing I'm a person. I have been trying very hard to be a convincing one for a very long time.
Eternal Being/One Infinite Creator, please help remind me of your light as I navigate this ridiculous planet.
No comments:
Post a Comment