This struggle is always uphill, but sometimes it lulls you. It’s like rocking in the ocean to the waves as they come, sometimes soft and comforting and peaceful, other times raging and hellbent on quenching their fury with your misery.
I have bad days like the next person. Except my bad days consist of a downward spiral into an anxiety-ridden state of unhappiness that leads to thoughts so dark I think of suicide. I don’t have the courage or the will to actually die. But I think about it in detail, devising plans on how to accomplish it with minimal effort and discomfort to those left behind. But the thought of those left behind makes me stop, simply because I don’t want to give them new demons to deal with.
I’m a hard worker and have a passion for my chosen profession. But on the days where there isn’t much to do, I feel empty, like an automaton without a purpose, a forgotten relic of he past that exists simply because it’s a source of nostalgia.
Today happens to be one of those god-forsaken days where I have no work to do and hence no goal to accomplish. I am looking forward to meeting my loved one today, but I am also self-conscious and hesitant because of a conversation we shared last night. i always question how much I really mean to him, and I always find that I don’t think it is as much as he means to me. This comparing is instinctual, self-preservation if you will. I am hurt every single time this happens. I don’t want it to happen any more. But I feel like a part of me is being ripped out every single time. I hate my pathetic self.
And so I’m dealing with it all the only way I know how – trying to be strong and keeping on keeping on, trying to go forward instead of sinking into a mire of self-made poison.
God help me, I’m trying. And today is a better day than yesterday.