I feel as though I am falling through swirling clouds of blackest night, tumbling towards a fate I dare not contemplate. My mind is a seive, letting go of a thought almost before it completes its formation. I don’t know what is wrong with me. Worse, I am not even sure I WANT to know. WHY can my mind not just allow me to be content? I don’t necessarily need to be happy, not yet, but content would be a damn good start. But no, as soon as I begin to feel contentment envelop me like a warm blanket, something inside my head orders me to withdraw, retreat, run away as if the blanket were possessed of the most vile creature imaginable.
I am afraid to succeed. Why? I have no idea. I only know that over and over and over again, I sabotage myself, ruin my own peace of mind. Right now I am not the kind of person anyone would care to be around. I am a negative cranky screaming termegant, and I feel like I totally deserve whatever crap is happening to me. In fact, I am so down on myself right now that I dare not even post my full feelings here. I know not many people care to hear things like this, but hey, that’s ok, there are plenty of happiness and light blogs out there. If I don’t get at least some of this out of me, I feel like I will just implode, destroy myself, cease to exist.
I was seeing a psychologist, and I was taking medication. I stopped both. I do this ALL the time. I start something, see a few small results, get terrified, and find some excuse, any excuse, to stop going, stop taking the medications. This time, I just didn’t make an appointment, and never called my psychologist back. Yes, I know I NEED to take the medication. I know this in my head, but intellect is not my current strong point. I gained an enormous amount of weight this winter (gee, and I was already a disgusting blimp to start with, this is great), and I am pretty sure the medication had a little to do with it. How can I take a medication that will make me gain weight, thus ADDING to my sense of depression and self-loathing, rather than helping it? It is an unanswerable paradox, and one I just wish would go the hell away. I am tired. Tired of living, tired of getting up, tired of everything and everyone. I want to lay down and sleep and sleep and sleep and I can’t be sure if I would want to wake up again.