Roughly two months ago, I was talking about “still waters” and not rocking the boat. I always have these fantasies that those feelings of stability will have some sticking power, but I have been downright down and depressed and agitated lately, and more lately than that, physically ill and the most exhausted I have ever been. All through this period, I stopped caring about things.
At first it was a conscious decision, like, “eff that.” Then it became quieter, until I wasn’t reaching out to anyone but I was doing my best to keep up pretenses and did a lot of cancelling appointments, making excuses for why I couldn’t/wouldn’t be there/had disappeared.
I am not right on top of pulling myself out of this sinkhole, but I am more aware of it, at least. I have started smoking again (yeah, I know, I know, I know) and am going through the whole beating up of myself over that failure. I have barely been to the gym in the last month, and have even given up on my calorie tracker, MyFitnessPal, most days. I am trying to resurrect all of that slowly, but to lay it all out there, it’s not working for me.
I have let issues get so big, piles so high, and issues so neglected that I am extremely overwhelmed. Overwhelmed to the point of panic attacks and almost nightly nightmares, which is not a good place to be. I haven’t felt like reaching out to anyone, somewhat because the response I am afraid I will get it how PROUD people are of ALL MY HARD WORK. When it comes out here that there has been no hard work, just continued survival and nothing else, I don’t want to have those words ringing in my ears.
On a related note, I get so sick of myself saying, things are great, things are mediocre, things are terrible, and then up and down and back all over again, that it is a lot of the reason why I don’t blog often. If I am this sick to death of me, I don’t figure anyone else wants to hear this shit either.