untethered

Sometimes it’s hard not giving up. It’s as though there is this invisible pull that wants to take you to a different place where things have a promise of being better. Logically, I know this isn’t a real thing and there isn’t somewhere out there that’s going to magically make everything better but to that one part of my illogical brain, it absolutely exists.

I’m trying to step back and think more about why it is that I think about dying so much. Some days it’s all there is and I just don’t know why it is this way and what I can do to stop it from happening. People tell me I should live when I don’t think I can. I feel afraid to face the thoughts that always nag me, always there ready to pounce during moments of emotional weakness. Lately, the thoughts have been coming on so much stronger that I have no choice but to pay attention to them.

That deep sense of sadness is following me around the last few days. It’s a sadness I’ve felt for so long that there’s actually something comforting about having it around. Sometimes, when the past grabs hold of you it just doesn’t let go and it leads you to spend your time in survival mode, afraid to trust anyone or anything. That’s where I am now.

I often find myself mentally drifting away like a balloon untethered from its string. Set adrift. Cut loose. Fear and dread threatens to bring us crashing down. It’s painful. It’s out of our control. Our journey constantly seems to be filled with pain–unbearable moments of oxygen deprivation, crying, anger and insane nastiness. The result? It becomes just me and my demons and I don’t have a good handle on them at all. Inside it feels like unpredictable chaos.

I don’t know what to do when things feel this way. I don’t know how to connect with people who can help me. I don’t know what to say or how to find the words to explain how all of this feels. The words just get piled into a jumbled mess of nonsense so I say nothing at all. I know, or at least I think I do, that this is the wrong way for things to be and I sometimes wonder how long I can keep up with the mess that is my mind. I know it can’t be forever.

Where has he gone this time? He feels so very far away from me–him in his space a million miles away from me in mine. Where do we go and what does it mean? I sometimes wonder if we’ve ever really felt connected to someone before. Like really connected and not just present in the same space. But then again how often are we really present most of the time anyways. I’m starting to feel like we’ve missed the boat on the whole connection thing.

It feels like we have stopped living life. Barely holding on, we are gripping whatever we can to keep it together for another day. Not thinking about next week or next month, just today we tell ourselves, just keep it together for today.