It's late, so I'm probably not thinking clearly. Plus I have a headache. But I can't sleep, so here I am, zoning into the computer and writing to you.
It has been a bitch of a summer. Battling depression in the brutal heat is much worse than it is in the winter. In the winter, you can burrow under the blankets and hide. In the summer, you don't even have THAT small comfort. wry smile I tried, and overheating drove me here to try again to sort out my life. Maybe when I'm done, I will fold laundry and take out the trash.
There's no space between my thoughts to THINK, let alone gain a handle on what needs to be done next. I have been putting one foot in front of the other, head bowed, trying to get through the day. I *hate* being here, but I am afraid to stop because if I do, I might drown. It's like quicksand...it's hard NOT to struggle against it. With nothing being clear, it is so damnably easy to point at others for their lack of clarity. When there is no established plan, it is too easy to lay blame for changing the plan.
Tonight, I fought with Beloved this evening, complete with raised voices and harsh words. It's been building for a while, and we are both at fault. I want to be so much MORE than I am...than I have been. Where I normally feel compersion, I have been feeling tired and irritable. I told him earlier that I felt like Mrs. Cratchit, and I meant it. He works too hard for too little recognition. It makes me bitter about his work, my lack of work, the state of the house, the overwhelmed days with the kids, and the time that is spent with Rain, which is now confined to visits every couple of weeks. And I lashed out, claws outstretched, and swiped at Beloved, at ShadoKnight, at Rain. I feel bad for it and I apologized but it hasn't changed the confusion and frustration I feel inside.
"You try to find yourself in the abstractions of religion and the cruelty of everyone else. And you wake up to realize your standard of living somehow got stuck on survive...When you're standing in deep water and you're bailing yourself out with a straw..." ~Jewel
I am tired of being told that I'm worth it, or that it's good to be of service because it is hollow to me. I do not feel worthy and I want to regain my confidence and drive to make others happy and comfortable. But I don't know where to strike the balance. I want to please, but I want to remain sane. I want to serve without feeling used. I want to be both strong and vulnerable...but...
but...
sigh Does any of it make any sense? I doubt it. So much is in my own head, viewed through a kaleidoscope of emotion and mood. I trust in the bit of therapy of random association and free thought. And I rely on time. Healing time.
"this strange season of pain will come to pass when the healing hands of autumn cool me down" ~ Indigo Girls
Storms swept through this afternoon, and it is a soothing 68F. The frogs and crickets are singing their hearts out and the house is quiet. Blissfully quiet. I should sleep...but I am loathe to miss the opportunity to be alone. To dance, because at the moment nobody is watching, and maybe I will remember the steps...and maybe...just maybe...I'll remember them in the morning, too.
