The past few days of life here in Kansas have been without fanfare. By which I mean, there have been no wonderful morning walks due to the heat, humidity and rain. AND there have no discernible sunrises or sunsets. No beautiful skies, no lovely colors. The days have just lit themselves like someone was using a dimmer switch. Light slides on, light slides off. In fact this morning, I decided to dub this week, the Days of Malaise, because I’ve been having an equally rough time as well.
In fact, I came here to write yesterday and just could not unclog myself to find the words. I typed out a little something but it felt so empty. Same with Sunday and Tuesday. It’s really abit upsetting because I have been so in tune with myself or my muse and then POOF, nope, just gone. Usually when I sit down in front of the screen, the words find themselves and pour out onto the page. Even today, I can feel abit of resistance, but I decided no matter what I come up with I’m putting it out in the world. Because we each have to embrace our story in all it’s ugliness and glory.
Let’s talk about thoughts, because the truth is I have been struggling. Hard. Struggling to find meaning in this life past the superfluous things like sunrises and pussy cats. Struggling to want my life. I have been drowning in the maelstrom of my own mind for the past few days. I love that word maelstrom. I have been so inundated with horrible thoughts. Just a constant flow of them that would return in any moment, any space that was not fully occupied with some other chore.
Thoughts about how I haven’t done anything worthwhile with my life. I’m not sure how a person measures their “worthwhileness” but I feel very lacking sometimes. I get very down on myself, disappointed in myself and then the bottom just falls out. It starts with wondering about what is the point of this particular life, my life. What am I doing with my life, the life I was given to use in this world…
Thoughts about ending my life, not because I need a pill or because I’m crazy, because neither of those are true. Because those things don’t have to be true. For me it’s because I think it’s too late for me sometimes, I have wasted the life I was given. There are no happy endings left for me is what I’ll think. I’m in my 40s, not 30s and well, getting divorced and having your whole flight plan thrown out the window is really jarring in this decade. I’m not sure where I’m going and on the days when the unhappy self destructive zero empathy thoughts show up, it feels like I have no where to go.
I’ll think, I am a disappointment to everyone who knows me. Like I cause everyone shame when they think of me. When people say they are proud of me, I cannot for my life understand why sometimes. Then I realize it’s me. I am a disappointment to myself and I can’t quite get myself moving, I think about how I am the only one I have to depend on to change the course of events. And I’ve not been reliable for myself. I have not taken care of this life, I mean I have taken care of my physical life, my body, my health, my environment but not me. Me as in Amy.
Am I damaged or are we all like this, do you spend time doubting yourself and your choices? Do you hold your life up to a light and only see the flaws and empty spaces where you swear something magnificent should be? And yet, find yourself unable to fully engage to change it.
I think people believe therapy is suppose to cure you. It’s suppose to fix you. I’m pretty sure that’s not it at all…
When I started in October last year, I did all the EMDR work around my trauma and it certainly changed me. It saved me because I probably wouldn’t be here typing away if it wasn’t for those first months of treatment. My ex kept saying I was a new me, which I disliked very much. I didn’t want to be a “new” me, I’m doing it to become a better version of me. But he also remarked quite often throughout our time together that I was broken or fucked up. That my parents, mostly my mom, had just screwed me up. And that always really hurt me to know I was with someone who believed that about me. It was a clear indicator I was not with the right person. He was not with his right person. But yet, I stayed, believing I loved this person. I had actually thought years ago prior to marrying him that I didn’t like the way he saw me. I felt like he never saw me. Probably a good indicator I should have gone a different way…
I’ll think about how my track record for me is not good. I’ve picked all the wrong choices and discarded the right ones. I went to college to escape my mother not to educate myself. Actually I went to the college, SHE wanted to go to, not me. In fact, I look back and see how I allowed her to shape my life as she wanted. It’s really fucking unsettling. I didn’t spend my 20s or even early 30s discovering who I was, I spent all that time surviving all the memories and life. Just running in any direction haphazardly really. And I feel so heavy with a kind of failure for that time. All of it feels like the heaviest failure.
That’s a pretty good list of all the thoughts…you can see why I’ve been in an unhappy state. My mind has been very busy, but not in a good way obviously.
And never before have I asked myself, is this whole internal dialogue good for me? Maybe I need to think about what I’m allowing to take up residence in my brain. But I did last night. Last night I had a moment in the bathroom where I realized: These are all just thoughts AND you are making them real by believing they are true, when in fact, they are just vaporous ides floating around. We make our thoughts real when we believe they are true…
And that’s really what brought me back here today. To tell you that. And I wish there was a OFF switch that you could flip on your brain. When the unproductive self-destructive toxic shit floods your mind, I’d like to hit a button and make it stop. Wouldn’t that be great?