More whining. Awake at 1 AM.
I can't get out of my head. I can't focus on anything but this. I feel like this helpless child, I can't do anything.
I I I I
I start every sentence with I.
I can't read anything that isn't this.
I can't bear to focus my brain on this terrible sadness.
I can't bear to focus my brain on anything but this sadness.
I cling to it. I hate it.
I used to be a "night owl." I hate the night now. I sit up in the dark and listen to C breathe. I look at the shadows cast on the wall by my bedside lamp.
I don't even know what I think about, trying not to cry. Trying not to cry too loudly.
I'm such a mess.
I tell C that maybe I should just withdraw this semester, while I figure out what I'm doing in school now. He thinks that if I just push through, I'll find it again. Fake it 'til you make it, I guess.
It took so much just to get to class this semester. To get to class without crying. To get through class without crying. But I don't participate anymore. I don't do work anymore. Sometimes I do get caught up in class discussion. But I have nothing to say. Nothing that isn't angry. Nothing productive. I sit, and in my head I think about how useless this all is. Lots of talk. Very little change.
When I was 13, I had what I guess was clinical depression. The adults called it "school phobia." I stopped doing my work, and then I stopped going to school. It was eighth grade. I would sit in the guidance counselor's office and cry. Sit in my mother's car and cry. I can still feel the damp tissue in my hand. So sad I couldn't even bring my eyes up. I just focused on the tissue, turning it, folding it over and over in my hand. I look back now and it's all very familiar.
20-odd years and tons of therapy later, I've come to understand the root of all those tears, all the sadness. I think I was sitting at a crossroads, on the verge of growing up, needing to deal with my own feelings, my family dynamics, figuring out my place in the world.
Perhaps that's what I'm doing now. Paralyzed. Not wanting to move forward, not yet. Knowing I can't go back. Oh, how I want to go back. I just want to go back.
4 comments:
this is such a heartbreaking post.
I know those nighttime moments well. some nights I lay in bed and quietly cry myself to sleep. other nights I can't bear to even go to bed until I know I'll pass right out... sometimes nothing helps except deep slow breaths...
it's hard not to feel how meaningless everything else seems right now, isn't it? I hope you two are able to find or create some joyful moments in between all the sadness to keep you going. wishing you some strength. ~luna
I often find myself awake around 4 or 5 am. I will fall asleep fine, but then I will wake around then and think of nothing but Hannah. Sometimes, it really feels like all I had was a nightmare, but then I realize it was a nightmare, but I was awake the whole time.
Work seems meaningless to me too. I think you should just try to push through it. It won't do you any good to sit home and dwell with too much time on your hands. It sucks, but "fake it till you make it" may be the best attitude.
Damn, do I remember that.
I'd hate to see your grades and whatnot tank because of this -- actually, I might advise taking a semester off, because you might actually grow to *miss* it and come back with a vengeance when you do. BUT (and this is a big but) I wouldn't take a semester off without some sort of structure to do something. Anything. Work on the house? Work out? Take up photography? I don't necessarily think this is a bad idea, but would hate to see you lose interest in everything if you did.
Most of the day - I just stare at my monitor. I don't answer e-mails or the phone. I let deadlines roll by. I'm only working in the sense that I sometimes get dressed and drive to my office. But if it weren't for that, I don't think I'd be functioning. Being forced to interact with others and to function outside my home is the only thing keeping me afloat.
Of course I don't have to worry about grades and my 'boss' is incredibly supportive.
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