Sunday, November 28, 2010
An intermittent piece of ramble
I probably should have started a separate blog for the 365 day photo challenge, but I didn't. So in between days and days of photos, you will be seeing random and possibly misplaced posts by me. The wonderful thing is, you don't have to read it!
The other day was a terrible one for me, a setback, so to speak. I wanted to be like smoke or fog, or smog. No, not smog, because smog stays. I wanted to disappear. To be and then suddenly not be.
Usually those days are few and far between, and I am grateful to say, fleeting.
That day seems to be hanging on, however. For some reason, I do not feel fine. I still want to not be. I am overwhelmed with my life which is not overwhelming. I am anxious and achy.
The achy part really bothers me, because I have noticed that with stress of mind or soul comes physical pain that presents itself by way of a migraine, or a stomach ache so bad that I can't walk, or muscle pain or joint pain, or exhaustion, or sleeplessness, or nausea and other stomach issues that I won't elaborate on. I think it might be easier to feign normalcy if the physical pain did not exist.
I can act. That's not a problem. I've done it for years. It does become exhausting when I do it for too long, but I'm great at it.
Today I literally cannot handle anything. I can't even act today. If I was to be exposed to a social situation right now, I would most likely be forcibly committed to a hospital... in that wing.
Ramble, ramble. I did say you didn't have to read this, right? I'm writing it for myself, to try and work things out here. Sometimes that helps, sometimes it doesn't.
Today I want to get into a car and just drive to nowhere, and not stop. I want to be alone completely, with no sound. I don't want to come back home.
Let me be clear, this is not about my family. I adore beyond words, my husband and my kids. This is about something in me that is broken, or at least badly bent. Can I be repaired? Ha. I actually laughed. That's good, right? Perhaps, if a cynical laugh can be called "good".
People have tried for years to repair what's broken in me. I have, too. I wonder if duct tape would work. If only.
I feel small. I feel cold. Dark. Alone in myself.
I feel lost.