there's a reason I'm not quite back yet. Every time I think I've got it together, I'm coming out of hell, things are clearing...
and then I realize it's not gone. Not at all. The anger, the hurt, the depression...it's not tainting my conscious thoughts, it's happily seething down in the subconcious. Which means that I'm still fragile, still likely to snap, definitely likely to get frustrated easily...
it's february. With apologies to T.S. Eliot, April is not the cruelest month, this horror of a month is. At least it's short. Although that's no consolation, I once had February extend into April. Two months of being on edge, tense, frustrated, on the verge of taking myself out just to get rid of the feelings that I was a nobody and a fuckup who didn't even deserve the few friends I've got.
Having a name for it doesn't always help. Yeah, it's easy to say, that's not me, I'm not this horrible person who can't see through the fog to save her life...but I feel that way. I don't understand, when I go through these horrible times, why anybody wants to be friends with me. Can't they see the horror I do? Can't they see?
Ever stare madness in the eye? I have. It was a February afternoon. Ever nearly get yourself and a good friend killed? I have. It was a February evening. Ever watch somebody you care about turn around and show you that it was for nothing? I have. It was a February morning.
I knew this month was going to be an utter fscking mess from the start, but as I got through the first week with no disaster falling on my head, I thought, maybe, just maybe, this February would be different...famous last fscking words.
i've been sick, between a bladder infection, and what *appears* to be the stomach flu. I've been in a minor auto accident all too close to the date of my last one, which brings up some horrible feelings. I've been whammoed from more directions than you care to think, I've been hurt, I've been betrayed, I'm buried up to my fscking ears in skewlwurk...
i'm tired, I'm stressed, and I want to go back to Monday February 11th and start all over again. I'm so *fscking* behind. I'm so fed up and frustrated with myself for letting me fall into this trap. I'm debating if the pdoc's offer of anti-depressants is something I want, I'm hoping this mess will clear up...but it's not going away. I want it just to go away, I *want* to be happy again.
That's the most frustrating part of this mess, now that I've finally found what it means to be happy, this descent into madness hurts all the more. There's a lot of things that hurt from this week.
and it looks like my body picked this week to play ping-pong with my hormones, which isn't helping the matter any. So yeah...
I'm tired, I'm feeling very lonely, and that's all...I'm just...hurt. and it's a vague feeling.
just as I thought I got it all clear. dammit.
Many's the time I've been mistaken
and many times confused
yes, and I've often felt forsaken
and certainly misused
Oh, but I'm alright
just weary to my bones
still you don't expect to be bright and bon vivant
so far away from home
so far away from home...
I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered
Or driven to its knees
Oh, but it's alright
For we did so well so long
Still when I think of the road we're travelling on
I wonder what's gone wrong
I can't help it, I wonder what's gone wrong...
...that's sorta the best expression for how I feel at the moment. Back to work at attempting to lift myself out of this through sheer force of will.