Friday, November 23, 2012

Rise and Fall and Rise Again

I was doing well and then slid back for a bit. It was hard. I felt so confused and incapable of explaining what I was feeling and thinking. And I was so angry at myself because I felt as if I was on this really great path and then...fell off it. No, that's not accurate. I felt as if I was shoved off it, knocked to the ground, and then they kicked dirt over the path so I couldn't find it again. (In reality, I'm the one who shoved, knocked, and kicked, of course, but using the royal “they” made for a better analogy!)

I wandered out to the living room and asked if I could sit with my roommates. P asked how I was and said he was worried about me. And I admitted I was worried about myself too. I talked to he and M for awhile. I stumbled over my words and struggled to form sentences because I'd been feeling something I'd never felt before. Suicidal, happy, depressed...those are things I understand. Those are things I can describe and talk about. But it wasn't any of those things.

For 10 years I've blogged. I've ripped myself open and laid myself bare. Literally. I've spewed my misery and joy, my anger and hope. I gave everything I had to give. And there's nothing left in me. That''s why I'm struggling to care about what I do in the future. What I do now and how it will impact what I do next. I don't think there is a next. I think I've given everything I possibly can. I've said everything I can. I feel as if I'm empty with nothing more to give to the world. People tell me to write a book. Which has been my dream since I was six or so. But I've written all I can, haven't I? What do I have left to say?

Maybe I have given all I'm worth. Maybe I have nothing left to give or offer. Maybe that means I'm done. I feel as if I'm done. I'd thought about suicide. Not in a depressed way but in a “after weighing pros and cons, could this be the correct option” way. Is it ever a logically viable option when you have nothing left to give? Does the fact that I'm empty mean I have no place in this world? And I told him, it wasn't coming from a place of depression or self loathing. And as the latter came out of my mouth I stopped and said, “Wow. No. That's a lie. If I believed I had inherent value and worth, suicide wouldn't be an option.”

And suddenly I thought about how there's so much to do and so much to see and so much to learn and the idea of leaving before experiencing all that made me want to cry. I have to learn to juggle and play violin and visit Dollywood and meet Sonya in real life and taste weird liquor and and and! Life is so fucking amazing that it makes my heart ache. I can sit and look at the clouds and just...sob because it's so overwhelmingly beautiful. I'm not going anywhere. I can't. I have too many places to explore and people to meet and adventures to have. And way too many clouds to watch.

I'm not going to be angry at myself for defaulting to the destructive. Because it's normal and natural for me. It's a way I've found to survive. Slowly I'll learn how to replace that with something new.

We talked for a long time and as I spewed everything I'd been feeling I started realizing and understanding. Talking to them was cathartic and revelatory. Like writing here used to be. I realized I miss this place. I miss you guys. I miss writing until the realizations flow and I feel drained from pushing myself so hard.

I never thought I'd reach a point where I felt safe and stable. My entire life has been chaos and stress and crisis management. Try to survive, try to push through, try to live one more day. And now I have silence and calm and I don't quite know what to do with it.

I feel like for the first time a future IS possible. And I have no idea how to embrace it. I never thought I'd survive. I never thought I'd last this long. 2.5 years ago I thought I was done, that I would truly not survive. Emotionally or physically. I wouldn't be able to handle one more moment so I'd tap out. It was inevitable. But it wasn't. 2.5 years and nothing is the same. In a million years I wouldn't have guessed that THIS would be where I ended up. That this would be a) a decision I'd make and b) a decision I'd be so fucking grateful for.

12 comments:

  1. I hope you will write a book. If you have nothing left in you, imagine up something from outside. No one said your book couldn't be a novel.

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    1. I haven't written fiction in, about, 15 years!

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  2. I actually am working on a few memoirs after the life I've lived thus far, at age almost 28. I feel like LJ was an investment. I've presently never felt more hopeless about the future and my life is still unstable and honestly has seemed like a big joke my entire life...but I'm quite eloquent, it's time to write about it.

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    1. I love reading memoirs and look forward to the possibility of reading yours.

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  3. Just for the record, and I have told you this personally but I want a written record of it here, if you ever kill yourself I will do the same so I can go find you and kick your fucking ass. Yeah, Im a thousand miles away but I love you and need you and want you. Just dont.

    Myself, I never figured I would live to be this old. I turn 45 in less than a month and if I had known I would still be alive I would surely have taken better care of myself. I havent had the realization you have had, I dont know what else there is to do. I feel like I am drifting along waiting on something to happen.

    Im getting mighty tired of drifting...

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    1. I understand the drifting. I feel as if the wheels are just spinning but I'm not moving an inch. I don't know. I just feel so damn stagnant.

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  4. I wish you knew your inherent worth and value. I wish you knew what a perfect miracle you are. I wish you knew that you are the reason I went into the field that I am in. So I guess I'm telling you now. Yeah.

    Sleep well, sweetheart. Life has so much more in store for you, and I hope you continue to choose to share it with us.

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    1. Thank you so much. From the bottom of my heart. May I ask what field you're in?

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  5. I think a book of your thoughts, good and bad, would be so helpful to the many others out here who suffer in silence. I hope you can share that gift again by putting it all on paper. You might even try to find a publisher....next year, try writing on the NANO NOVEMBER CHALLENGE.... AND I also think having roommates at this stage of your recovery is going to be so beneficial to all of you....

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    1. Thank you! I think I will put together a rough outline and see where I can go from them.

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  6. You are not a bottle of ketchup that has a finite amount inside. You are a living, breathing, thinking, feeling, loving, funny, intelligent, talented, caring human being. You may feel empty right now, but you're not. We all have times when we need to retreat and lick our wounds. But time heals wounds -- not just by going by, but by giving us time to learn, experience, and reevaluate things. You might feel empty now, but it won't always be that way. You have lots to offer the world, and you deserve to experience everything life has to offer. Heidi, the worst is behind you. It's BEHIND you. Your future is whatever you want to make it. Isn't that cool? You've made brave moves, made good friends, and entered a whole new life. You are brave. You are strong. And you know you can survive anything because you have. Nothing you face can be as bad as what you've already been though.

    I lost my mom 8 years ago and my dad 3 months ago. I've also had problems with depression for about as long as I can remember. There are days I don't think I can get out of bed. But I think about how if my parents were watching me, they'd tell me to get my ass out of bed and get to work. So I do. They wouldn't wish sadness and hopelessness for me -- not in a million years. So in their honor I do what I need to do. There's the saying, "Fake it 'til you make it." And that's what it's all about. Do it even though it doesn't feel right, and eventually it WILL feel right.

    Hang in there.

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  7. This was beautiful. You write so eloquently about your experiences that I keep coming back for more because you are real. You are so real and it makes me feel I can relate to you even though I am a complete stranger. I hope you will live a life full of these intense experiences and that you can see some meaning in the fact that you are lucky to be able to feel life so vividly - you really are alive.

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