Over the ledge

December 30, 2008

For me it manifests itself in a fog. My brain feels full, no matter what time of day it is. In class, answers I just read from the book are just out of my reach. I can see them as material objects just floating beyond the grasp of my fingertips.

I’m irritable and distracted. I can’t concentrate on simple tasks. I interupt myself from doing my job to surf the internet, loading and reloading Google news again and again. I keep the TV on to distract me from the silence, from going and doing the things I need to go do.

I constantly feel I’m walking on the edge of a cliff. Down below is somewhere dark I don’t want to go. I have fought with myself for months now about that ledge. When I slip up and I feel myself falling, I come completely undone. I cry, I choke back on tears, I totally shut down. Getting the words out to express how I feel seems like such a monumental task, so often I simply don’t say anything. When G asks what’s wrong or when I try and explain why I’m crying, nothing comes out. I become a mute. Sometimes it’s easier that way. But I know it’s not the right thing to do.

I know the path to treatment lies in finding a therapist, getting help, accepting medication if my mental health professional feels that is the best path for me. As I am a rational person, I can rationally tell you I won’t feel like this forever, that one day I may be “okay” again. That one day I will feel like the responsible, mature married woman I am, somewhere deep down.

But right now, I don’t feel okay. I don’t feel like everything is fine. I see a long, long black tunnel stretched out in front of me with no end in sight. It’s a tunnel that leads into next year and the year after that and five years down the road. Someone asked me what I see myself doing in five years. I didn’t tell them this, but I thought “I see myself hurting. Still hurting.” I don’t know how to climb out of this hole.

I don’t know how to make myself feel better.


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