I have no inspiration to write right now, but I’m also in a terribly strange mood. The wheels are turning in my head and I see… possibilities, but at the same time, I’m deeply mournful. I’m so wildly sad at the state of my life. I seriously can’t stand it anymore. The depression and the chaos and the instability are picking me apart slowly. I have these vague recollections of what it’s like to be a functional, whole person. Just whispers of memories, of a time when I had a concept of time, and hope for the future. Before I was in constant pain. Before I just wanted to sleep all day. A time when my laughter wasn’t cynical and my tears actually fell and my heart actually felt joy and hope and faith.
And the notion of those things completely vexes me. Not being exhausted all the time? Not wanting to escape? Actually enjoying a meal, or sex, or a bubble bath? Inconceivable. I literally can’t figure out why I’m here. Like, I know I have to do certain things to keep on living, and I fulfill them to enough of a degree that I still am. But I can find no purpose, no meaning, no pleasure beyond that. Life is absolutely puzzling to me. I don’t understand how to have fun and relax and have goals for the future. For me, the future entails nothing more than this: this pointlessness and emptiness and the absolute endlessness of it all. And I wonder resentfully why I have to eat, or be awake, or brush my teeth, or take my medicine. Why do I have to keep on going when I, quite frankly, don’t want to? Why can’t some act of nature mercifully deliver me from this misery I’ve been fighting for so long? I don’t want to give up, but I don’t want to go on.
Yet somehow I can manage those few basic tasks, as laborious and miserable as they are. All day long I wonder, “why am I doing this, what’s the point?” but then I just do them because, well, what other choice is there? Something somewhere inside of me remembers what it’s like to be better, because it refuses to give up. But I am tired. I’m so tired of the anxiety and worry and tears and pointlessness of it all. I want to actually have fun with my children again. I want to write new poetry for Ian. I want to see a future, a future where things actually get better instead of stretching on in a pointless cycle of sleep and wishing I was asleep. I want to do something worthwhile with my life instead of wasting away in a dead end job that doesn’t make ends meet. I want to cook and clean and perform usual everyday tasks without fighting myself or having a panic attack because it’s so behind it’s overwhelming. I want to follow through with something for once in my life, like my intention to write a book or get healthy or finish school. I want something worth living for. But right now, it’s still just black.
I’m really, really trying to hold up hope here. But I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this cheerful attitude and keep on going. I need something, a miracle maybe. Just some little glimmer of change and hope. If you could send positive energy my way, I’d appreciate it. I need strength and support right now.
I have so many things I want to write about, but I don’t have the focus, or the determination right now. I seriously promise that someday soon, I’ll be better. I’ll write things that matter. Right now I just needed to get out how hopeless it seems right now. Thanks for listening.