Friday, July 15, 2016

Push.

I've been far too negative in my writing, lately.  Damn it.  Stop complaining, right?

I was in crisis mode.  I guess I still am.  Life just seemed to pummel me.  I guess it does that to everyone.

Stupid medical stuff, that honestly feels like it will never end... Never.  End.  Blood tests are all over the place.  More tests.  No relief.  It feels like nothing has changed.

Nothing has changed, really, with my health care.  New doctors, no solution.  Not in the past year or so.

But, then... I haven't changed, mentally, either...  I mean, not just medically speaking, I haven't changed how I think or how I feel.  I haven't changed my life to any great extent.  I haven't tried so very hard.  I let myself stay.

Stay.

Stagnant.

And I know that is the worst thing anyone can do.  It's terrible to be sick, have depression, experience really difficult or painful events in life, but I can handle things differently.  I can try to think differently and stop letting myself stall out... stuck.  I resign myself to being stuck, and I feel like I don't have the energy to get unstuck.

I've been sitting at the bottom of that dark well for a very long time.  I haven't even looked up.  I haven't looked up.

I have to, now.  I have to stand up, and look up to the circle of light, and see something more than darkness inside myself.  I know that.  I know I have to push the darkness away, and look up, even if I'm seeing the sunlight through tears.  I'm allowed to be sad.  I'm allowed to be angry, even.  But, I'm not allowed to give up.  That's not how life works.

Life.

Live.

I got that tattooed on my foot for the love of all things Holy.  Live.  To Live.  Because I knew and know how easy it is to stop.  Stop living.  And just float, and fade...

I've put myself in this hamster wheel.  I climbed right in it, and I just keep going... But going nowhere.
I'm going to try and stop that nonsense.  I'm going to try.
Because I can't tell you how many people have given up on me because I gave up on myself.  They left. They couldn't help fill someone up with life, who had the cap screwed on so tightly, protecting emptiness.

I don't want people to give up on me.  I'm so damn sad that I pushed them away.
I'm sad.
I don't feel better.
I feel horrible.
But I am looking up.  I can see.

I can see.

(Or...  I might be lying).



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