Tuesday, August 31, 2010

in my eyes...

i'm tired of the nonsense
when it seeps into my veins
moving at a breakneck pace
i can't seem to grab the reigns
barreling through this life of mine
the days go whizzing by
the hours, the minutes, the seconds
every moment seems to fly
i'm reaching out with open hands
and grasp ahold of air
objects floating out through space
but its as if nothing is there
i open up my eyes to see
the never ending black
i close my eyes back up to see
every single thing i lack
as if its all printed
right on these lids of mine
and all i have to do is close my eyes
and the action stops all time
i close my eyes to take a break
from everything that binds
i end up staring at all the things
that always haunt my mind
i open up my eyes again
and see all the things i love
the nonsense starts to melt away
and i see what i am made of

Monday, April 19, 2010

And then what?

As I sat in my minivan and ate my lunchtime taco, I was struck with a rather paralyzing thought.  I’m going to die…and then what?  This world will no longer be mine to live in.  These people will no longer be mine to hold.  These things and times will no longer be mine to cherish and enjoy.  And then what? 

Empty, sad body locked away in a pine box to be eaten away at by bugs and other ground dwelling creatures? 

And if so, where will my soul be?
Will I know it’s my soul?
Will I still be conscious of where I am and who is around me?
Will I be with people I know?
Or alone?
Or does it depend completely on how good of a person I was?
Do my actions alter my final destination daily? 
I was good today, so if I died I would surely go somewhere good, but yesterday I was horrible, so if I had died I would surely have gone someplace bad.  Is that how it works?
How will I know?
Should I be afraid?

I am afraid of so many things, death being close to the top of the list, that although this thought process paralyzes my mind, my body still soldiers on through life.  And then I am left with a day that wasn’t lived at all because my mind was stuck running in circles trying to round up the fear instead of focusing on the things that I will surely miss when I am gone. 

Another day passed.  How many of those have I not actually lived?

Does that make sense?  I am alive and yet there are days where I did not live.  Did not thrive and experience all that was set before me.  Days where I let the fear of the after death (or the fear of failure to complete, or mile-long to do lists that cripple my ability to do anything, or just plain lazy assedness) stop me from actually living.  I’m not talking about living life to it’s fullest or experiencing everything just to have tried it.  I am talking about actually living.  There are days that I have been a zombie…moving but not actually alive.  And what’s the point in living if you are actually dead?

When I began writing this blog, it was partially to remind myself to enjoy the little things in my life so that I wasn’t just zombie walking through my days.  I wanted to keep my eyes wide open to see what was set out before me.  I wanted to appreciate the smallest of things in my life but even this blog can’t make me remember every single day.  I get so tied up in the immensity of the bigger things that the little things just slip unnoticed from my day and I find myself living yet another day without actually living. 

And then someone comes along and reminds me.

Reminds me that the ring on my finger signifies that someone loves me and waits to see me every night when I get home…and I should remember to cherish that. 

Reminds me that I am a good mom and the smallest of things (like being a Teddy Bear doctor) will stay with my babies forever.

Reminds me that friendships are not always constant but that they can endure if we remember to appreciate them.

Reminds me that my family is going to be there for me no matter what—even if what I need is in the form of hard labor.

So, in an effort to have lived this day instead of zombie walking through it, I want to thank all of the “someones” that have reminded me to live.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

The attack...

Water nymphs stand behind my eyes and menacingly stab as they try to break free; their tiny little spears stinging harder and harder with each thrust.

Quaking gnomes reside within my hands sending their shivers out at sporadic intervals; each growing in intensity as the seconds tick away on the clock.

Tiny constrictors snake around my lungs; squeezing tighter and tighter everytime clean air attempts its entrance.

Bubbles form themselves and rise up until they pop their acidic masses against the top and sides of my stomach.

Microscopic sumo wrestling elves slam their fat little bodies into the sides of my heart causing it to violently pump the blood in and out; racing, making my chest walls rise and fall in an abnormal rhythm.

The seahorses swimming through my veins begin to drown in the racing bloodstream and come to the surface for air, bursting the vessels and causing a redness to spread throughout my cheeks.

And all the while...

The queen sits upon her throne at the pinnacle of my head. Begging, pleading for the tormenters to stop their attack; sending shockwaves of demands through my system that are just as quickly sent back stamped with "return to sender-we will not oblige".

She cannot stop the cretins. I cannot stop them.

My body gives in to the attack as wave after wave of overwhelming anxiety rip through me like a tsunami eating an oceanside village.

I gasp for air. I call out for help.

Neither air nor help comes calling back.

I begin to drown in the waves just as the creatures within me begin to tire.

They slow. I crash.

Then, with one last blow from each and everyone of them...

I fall.

They have won their wretched little war upon my being. Despair has found its way in once again and I am locked within its dungeon; the light of day a distant memory.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Let's Start Fresh, Shall We?

Someone once told me that they don't believe in New Year's Resolutions because if a person is going to resolve to do something they should just do the thing they resolve to do and not wait for the start of a brand new year.

I agree with that...in principal.

In reality, though, I make half-assed New Year's Resolutions just like the masses.

But, in my complete defense, my resolutions have less to do with the starting of a New Year and more to do with my Obsessive Compulsive (OCD) tendencies. I like to know the exact date in which I started something and I really prefer if that date is easy to begin counting by...and what better date to start counting from than January 1st? Right? Yeah, I know I'm a little crazy at times. You'll learn to live with it. :)

My only resolution for this New Year...really for this new decade...is to start fresh.


I want to start fresh every morning with a brand new go-get-'em attitude and at least a half-hearted smile ('cuz really...who can smile whole-heartedly first thing in the morning?).

It sounds easy but I probably won't be able to pull this one off either!

I cannot count 2009 as a good year, nor can I write it off as a bad one. Good things happen, bad things happen...and to label a full 365 days as all good, or alternately all bad, is a bunch of hooey. For those negative-nellies out there...stop focusing on the negatives and realize there were also positives. If you are seeing the glass as half-full and sunshine is coming out of your butt...start recalling that one time that someone popped your balloon and you crashed right on down to earth.

And stop telling me that you hope this year will be "the best year yet". I appreciate the sentiment. I really do. But I actually enjoy the ups and downs of my life and I believe in the yin and yang. A year that is nothing but good could only lead to a follow-up year of holy-shit hell. Please, don't wish that upon me.

Anyway, for all of you, I wish that 2010...
...has challenges that you can not only endure but also conquer.
...allows you to frown so that you can appreciate the feeling of a smile.
...brings you new friends that could never replace the old but stand strong beside them.
...keeps you busy and on your toes without taking away the time to stop and smell the flowers.

and most of all...

I wish that 2010 brings you love and hugs and kisses in abundance during times of great need and also in times of great joy.

Because that is what will make the world go 'round in the end.

"All you need is love...love. Love is all you need. Love is all you need."

Thursday, September 24, 2009

How big was that piece of straw anyway?

You know how there's always the straw that broke the camel's back?  I don't even know where that saying came from.  All I know is that it means that there was one little thing that was added to everything else and the weight of that one little thing caused the camel to go sprawling on the floor in pain.  His owner probably then had to shoot him and sell him to the glue factory because he was no longer useful (I assume that's what they do since that is what they do to horses with broken legs and camels are just horses with humps, right?).  But my point is that there is always that one little thing.  The one thing that makes a person realize that it's just too much.  That something is wrong and needs to change.  One little thing that causes everything else to come crashing down. 

For me, it was laundry.

I opened the door to the laundry room, after having tucked the kids into bed, knowing that I had to wash some jeans to wear to work the next day.  When I opened that door, I was greeted with a pile so large and so right-in-front-of-the-door.  That pile of laundry caused a reaction that was both completely out of the blue and yet completely foreseeable at the same time. 

I stopped breathing.  Tears flowed from my eyes.  And I broke down. 

The straw had broken the camel's back. 

And in that instant, I could no longer deny the fact that there is something wrong.  Something big and scary.  Something that makes me feel broken in ways that only those who have experienced it can imagine.  Something that is so hard for me to say and to admit to that I can barely even think the word.  It's taboo.

But it's familiar ground for me.  I know what I am talking about and I recognize the symptoms. 

I am irritable.  Beyond belief, really.  I snap at people.  I yell at the kids all the time for things that aren't really in their control.  My punishments to them are too severe for their crimes (grounding for a day just for 10 minutes late being home?  Over react much?).  I am more of a control freak than usual.  People get on my nerves when I should be able to just let it slide off my back.

I don't talk.  I think of a lot of things to say but it's too much energy to say them.  I don't listen either.  I have to ask people to repeat things constantly because I have tuned them out.  And not because I have something better to listen to,but because there is literally nothing going through my head.  It's blank.  My mind is never blank, so this scares me a lot. 

The smallest things make me anxious, make me sweat and shake.  Garage saleing with my Aunt, three people walking into my office all at once when I was alone, writing a to do list of things that need to be done that day, balancing my checkbook.  It all causes me great anxiety and stress to just think about. 

I haven't been reading even though I always carry my book.  I obviously haven't been blogging or doing any other writing for that matter.  My home office remains in a half finished state even though I was once completely excited to have my own space and need it to be functional by next Tuesday.  I don't text or talk to my friends or family unless they make first contact.  I don't doodle and mind puzzles make me anxious unless someone else is helping me with them.  I am not excited for a girl's night out even though it's already been planned. 

I don't eat much or drink much.  I am craving something that I can never identify.  I am tired constantly.  I fall asleep around nine and then sleep badly all night.  Waking up several times just to sigh and try to return to sleep.  I could cry at the drop of a hat. 

When I am driving, I am not paying close attention because sometimes when cars pass my thoughts go to what would happen if I swerved over into their lane or they into mine.  My thoughts always end there and I go about my day but the thoughts scare me because they aren't normal thoughts, right? 

Not that anything about me is normal when I am feeling normal but the point is that I'm not feeling normal. 

Does that make sense? 

I guess the point is that this is me, admitting that I have a problem.   It's not the first time in my life.  I've been medicated for this same affliction twice before. 

It's called depression

I'm calling the doctor tomorrow.