I have been very depressed the last few days. Very much so last night and tonight.
Normally on night like these as my thoughts plunge deeper into the darkness, I feel physical pain. Frost rushing just below in my wrists. And stab of cold in the center of my palms and chest.
I feel lonely.
I feel forgotten.
I feel lost.
I keep getting reminders just how far behind I am. And as I lay in my room day after day, night after night I have started to come to terms with many things.
Back in high school I felt like this, sad and dripping, but I still held hopes for being some sort of success.
I guess part of growing up is realizing someone has to play the parts of that NPC.
Not all of us can be lawyers, or doctors, or have a career we are passionate about. Moving out at eighteen into that college dorm at a respected university. Or even maybe taking a year off or starting an adventure.
Kids that were just starting at my county bumpkin high school have graduated and many are already coming to the end of their freshman year.
And here I am. At home. Everyday. Talking to no one besides my dogs, my cats, and Sassy if my phone works. I have worked four shifts since October and even if I was scheduled anything. I am terrified to go to work. It has been so long and so much has changed.
Time ago, I used to wonder what did have I done wrong? What could I do?
Lately, I have just settled into what I believe to be my reality. For all my book shelves lined with fantasies and my dreams, that is where they stay and end. They are just my books. Not my future.
Ever since before Mike really left, I was preparing myself. To go back to who I was.
It truly is better this way.
Last night I realized the cold wasn’t there. The tears are, but the frost doesn’t bite.
Does this mean I am finally growing up?
Sass. Don’t be mad. I was fine when I was talking to you really. Sad. But okay and fine.
I know I am not alone in having trepidations about sharing these kinds of things.
Just how little one feels. Always scratching the days in the back of your mind.
As of late, I have really felt supremely insecure. Kind of buds along with the failure tack. Feeling so tiny. Insignificant and invisible.
My mom likes watching romantic comedies and picks them up frequently at garage sales. She picked up Made of Honor a while back and well, I stayed away from it cause they never have been my thing.
I either feel so very embarrassed or just reminded of how empty things are.
And as I would watch these – I can’t help but still believe that there aren’t men that feel as they are portrayed in these films. Sap eyed and desperate just like any girl in love. Like I was.
And yet on the other hand (I am positively built with legos of contradictions) I know there are. Because that is human nature. Just as it is to be a skeptic and a cynic.
I am so very young to feel this way, but after my years, I feel so very old. So very, very old. Apparently according to my last visit to the doctors, and this was… Well a year ago, my JRA is progressing faster than anticipated when I was diagnosed at ten. I was told then that I would probably be confined to a wheelchair by the time I was forty. The update… I won’t even get that much time.
I am already hiding on my bed day in and day out. Guess that won’t be much of a hassle.
Don’t you feel pathetic for ever sharing such a big whomping pity party like this one? I don’t like talking about these thoughts because I have always felt that it is just a grab for attention. Like pretending you were drowning at the pool as a kid or something.