I hate everything right now.
Picasso
had a "blue period" and I hate him a little for only feeling "blue". I,
however, have been obsessed with the idea of painting everything from
the walls to my waterline the same dark, inky black I feel swirling
inside of me.
Rolling Stones' "Paint it Black" is my anthem right now. And I hate it along with everything else I hate so much right now.
All
I want to wear is black. I don't have any strong feelings about what I
want to eat and when I do it doesn't matter because everything tastes
fucking blase. I want to curl up in my bed and just lay there until I
feel better about life, but I don't want to be stuck at home in my
house. My job has been easy lately, but I want to call in every morning.
I have work I have to do around my house and I walk past it every day
because I don't want to do it. Every day doesn't just suck, it
suuuuuuuuuuuuuucks and drags it's ass doing it; My days are so long that
each one feels like an entire shitty week to itself.
I
want to be held and cuddled and cherished. I want someone to look at
me like a snack cake. I want to be wanted. I want someone to be madly in
love with me. And I want everyone to leave me the fuck alone. I want
to eat all the things and the thought of eating makes me nauseous. I
want to go out for dinners and coffee with friends, and I want to delete
all of their numbers from my phone and deactivate my Facebook -
anything to avoid commenting what I really think on their next
infuriating Vaguebook status. I want to do everything and nothing and I
want both "everything" and "nothing" to fuck off.
The
worst part? The truth is that most things are moving along just fine
in my world. There are things I could be doing better. There are things I
would like to be different. But, those things are always there. There's
a dark, angry undertone to everything I feel right now that I'm
struggling to understand. What people see is someone who complains and
is angry all the time, but what they're seeing is a mere fraction of the
black, bubbling angry magma that is inside of me right now that I keep
shoving down to keep from spewing all over everyone.
I've
been blaming my Seasonal Depression. My depression traditionally makes
itself known through sadness, tears, thoughts of self-harm, general
malaise, and a need to sleep for 10-16 hours a night. This is a
different monster. I feel like someone should slap a Mr. Yuck sticker
on my forehead because I'm toxic to other people right now.
Other People.
Sometimes
when I sit down to write, what comes out is a stream of thoughts
without a designated structure, style or plan. Some days, my writing is
it's own animal. Some days, my writing is a trail that leads me down a
winding path of thoughts and emotions until I reach the true point.
What
is different about this year's bout of Seasonal Depression is that so
much of what I'm thinking and feeling has to do with other people. It's
one thing to be unhappy and hate yourself, it's another to just be upset
at everyone and everything and I had to ask myself why. The toxic
bubbling inside of me that has risen past my throat and is pushing
against the inside of my lips is of my own creation.
I
haven't been honest with people when they've done things that bothered
or hurt me. I've let people talk down to me. I've let people be abusive
and disrespectful towards me. I've accepted "less" from people... less
than their best, less than what I deserve, and less than what I want.
I'm confused as to whether I'm more upset that I let them treat me that
way or that they thought it was ok.
I've been holding on to things that I should have let go a long time ago. I believe in forgiveness because it's good for the soul to forgive. I spent years trying to understand acceptance and learning how. Letting go, forgiving, accepting... they're exercises that need to be done regularly and I feel as though I've been failing because it's become so hard to do these things.
I'm
irritated because I let myself become a victim to another person's
struggles with substance abuse and mental illness. They're now doing
"better" and I'm still cleaning up the mess their illness stirred in me.
I'm struggling with being expected to be "supportive" and "happy" for
them when their recovery has brought out a person who is completely
different than the person I knew and loved. They take pride in the new
version of themselves, I see someone who is sober but selfish, less
kind, less loving, and arrogant. I see someone who made great progress
and change, but instead of choosing to help and enlighten others to what
they've learned has decided that their new "enlightenment" is a
pedestal to judge others from and somehow I find that someone who came
from ignorance should be less quick to judge someone else for being in
the same position. Then I hate myself for being judgemental.
I'm
angry because there have been so many times this year where I offered
my help to someone who just wanted to feel sorry for themselves. It's
frustrating to me when I try to help or offer a solution to someone and
they are so hell-bent on being mad that something went wrong that they
take it out on me instead of working with me to make it right. I'm
angry that I didn't walk away from people who just want to be verbally
abusive instead of being helped.
I'm
bitter because there were times when I offered to do something simple
for someone and had them turn it into a convoluted waste of my time, and
I still did it because I offered in the first place and didn't want to
back out after saying I would help.
I
haven't just said "no". I haven't been taking time to do things at my
own pace. I haven't been acknowledging my need as an introvert to be
alone. I haven't been doing any of the hobbies or things I do to occupy
my time that bring me joy. I haven't been taking care of myself in ways that make me feel good. I haven't been taking the time to do the things I have to do, choosing instead to be "fun" instead of responsible, and I can no longer ignore the laundry list of things I have to take care of.
I'm
so mad at myself right now because I let all of these things build up
inside me and I'm left feeling like I need a detox. I feel like I try
so hard to do good and be good and have good things in my life. My
energy, time, things, money and love.... all these things I try to share
with people generously because I know that I am so fortunate and so
blessed to have an abundance.
And now I'm burned out.
I've
had some symptom of illness for the last 20 days. It started with a
head cold that took my voice. Then bronchitis that left me coughing so
hard I peed myself. Then the stomach flu followed by chronic diarrhea
followed by another round of the flu.
It's
been really fun at my house. I've been humbled by this bout of illness
in ways I've never been before. The one thing that has really struck me
though is the way that it just keeps happening and at some point I have
to stop and consider the fact that it doesn't matter how much I sanitize
things if I'm sick inside.
I'm a really sick girl.
There's
a list of things wrong with me. It seems I have the passive-aggressive
flu. My introvert has been hyper-extended. I've got chronic Facebook
fatigue, emotional constipation and asthenopia (caused by too much eye-rolling).
I
haven't been taking care of myself emotionally, psychologically or
physically and I'm paying for it. By letting things build up, by not
standing up for myself, by not forgiving and letting go... I've let
negativity make me sick inside. I haven't been exercising my mind or my
body in the ways I need to in order to be healthy and sane. I haven't
been doing the things I need to do to feel like myself and it's taking a
toll. I haven't been taking care of myself and as a result, my body is
forcing me to.
I guess the first step is realizing the problem.
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