Anything…

“I knew then that no matter how hard you tried, no matter how many jars of honey you threw, no matter how much you thought you could leave your mother behind, she would never disappear from the tender places in you”

– Lily

(Secret Life of Bees)

I’m not sure how many times I’ve thought about opening up my laptop, taking a slow, deep breath and almost with a defeated resolution attempt to blog something.

Anything.

I don’t think anyone consciously wants to “check out” from what’s around them. Well maybe that’s not entirely correct. We always want to disconnect from things that cause us stress or anxiety. But unless you’re falling into some form of depression complete check out usually isn’t on our “to-do” list.

I’ve thought about blogging a lot lately. Inside, my brain says “just sit down and verbally vomit the best you know how”, “you know you feel better after”, “what the fuck is wrong with you Tara?”, “Okay now seriously I’m starting to get worried”, “Can you please just check in for a few minutes instead of checking out”…

Even now I’m staring blankly at my laptop. Feeling like nothing is worth doing. That “oh for fuck sake are you going to cry again” feeling at the back of my throat. It’s a beautiful day here in Halifax. One that should be fully enjoyed and yet all I can think about slowly walking to the back of the apartment where it’s colder and no sun is shining through, crawling back into bed (that I can’t seem to muster up the energy to make) and getting lost in some stupid game on my phone.

“Tara, please just get out of bed and do something”

Anything.

I literally had to sit up, cover my face with my hands, beg myself to get out of bed and open up this laptop. It’s defeating. I need to get things done around the house. Even the simplest things are hard to do. I don’t want to admit that something is wrong because I don’t know what that something is. It’s noon and all I’ve managed to do is put on some clothes (play on my phone), drive my wife to work (play on my phone), run an errand or two (oh and hey why don’t I sit in my car for 45 minutes playing on my phone because the idea of being around people makes me want to throw up) and then go back to bed.

Depression? I don’t know. Does it feel like depression? Sort of. I’m lost in a train wreck of thoughts that can’t seem to come together in anything cohesive. I want to run but can’t. I want to go to the gym but can’t. I want to make good food choices that help me feel better physically and emotionally but those are getting harder and harder with each bite I put in my mouth. I just want to put on some shoes, go outside and feel the heat of the sun on my face as I close my eyes, let the tears come and wonder why I’m in such a dark place right now.

Instead I feel trapped in my own head.

Like nothing matters.

I look at crowds of people and all I can think of is does anyone know the point of anything? Anything at all? I want someone to make eye contact with me so I can feel like I exist even if just for a moment but as I stare at the those around me I realize they’re probably just as lost as I am. I think about doing something as mindless as mowing the lawn for the last time now that Fall has descended and Winter shows signs of returning and yet before I can blink I’m lost in a trail of “everything around me is dying” and my chest feels like it’s caving in from sadness.

I feel stupid. I feel stupid for letting my emotions get intertwined with my everyday living. I feel stupid because I want to find joy in doing something I KNOW I enjoy doing but can’t fathom the idea of putting on my running shoes and hitting the streets for even 30 minutes. I feel stupid for trying to find some understanding in my life at this moment by putting them down into a blog post. There is nothing to be sad about. There is nothing to be upset about. There is nothing happening in my life that should be preventing me from being an active participant and yet sitting on the sidelines feels like the only option.

I don’t want people to put they’re arms around me and say “it’s just a day” or asking “what do you have to be so upset about?”. They’re telling me things I already know.  I feel stupid that I”m worried what someone might think when I blog now, both from people I know and love and from complete strangers. I feel stupid for not finding joy in other people’s accomplishments and instead just beating myself up for not “standing up and taking control” (whatever that means).

The idea of hitting publish on this damn post makes me want to shove a spoon so far down my throat and purge until I’m raw, because now I’m sure the only reason I’m sitting here is because I’m looking for attention and what I really want is for someone to close the door to this very dark place and confirm that I am not worth the time.  I keep trying to make excuses for the way I feel. I’m tired. I’m recuperating from vacation. I’m still trying to get used to the new hours at work. Chester keeps me up at night so sleep isn’t really happening…I’ll do better tomorrow. Then tomorrow get here and nothing has changed.

I would tell anyone else to be kind and walk a little more slowly. To allow the emotions to work through the cycle. To know that what is being felt ebbs and flows like most things in life. I want to punch myself in the face. I’m angry. I want to grab myself by the shoulders and say “pull up your big girl panties” and “get your shit together”. I’m confused. Nothing has happened to trigger this life sucking episode. I want to curl up in a ball and quietly rock myself into some sort of calm.

I just want to feel like something is right.

Anything.