Its Hard to Fucking Care

My eyes open and I am awake.  My brain reaches for the dream that floats through my mind, because I do not want to wake to reality.  Even my subconscious knows I do not want to end sleep, the other world much preferable to the real one.  I dreamt of my dad.  We were doing everyday normal things and I miss him.  My dreams are so real and I want to be in that world.

Ugghh, I have to face another day of moving forward, figuring out what I am supposed to be doing and making effort.  Unfortunately, my motivation and ambition have dried up like a raisin.  I can’t seem to jumpstart my energy.  Everything is overwhelming and inevitably I stay still as long as possible, inert physically, with my brain racing like a speed car at Talladega.

The only way I can get out of bed is to know that my dog is downstairs and needs to eat and poop.  I force myself to swing my legs from under the covers and put them on the floor.  When I stand, my body feels like it is disengaged from my mind. I seem to float next to my physical self as a separate entity, watching my movement as if its someone else.

A chore list floats through my mind and I am overwhelmed with the simplest of tasks.  How long have I been like this?  Its been three years since my life changed drastically.  I struggle to remember what it felt like before.  All the stories I had read in my past about depression suddenly make sense and I really get it.  I deduce that I am clinically depressed.  It’s hard to fucking care.  About anything.  All joy has drained out of me like water down a drain.

Suddenly I feel the need to weep overtake me and helplessly my body shakes with sobs I cannot control.  I gasp and suck air in as I cry hard enough to give me an instant headache.  I struggle to breathe and hold my face as air stops for several beats then sucks back in with a jolt.  I am used to this, it happens all throughout my day, like normal people sneeze or cough.

Years of forcing myself to get up and go to work, taking care of my children and feeding animals kicks in and I am auto pilot as I move about the house.  Feed the dog, check.  Get something in my stomach so I don’t feel nauseas, check.  Take a shower, check. Run errands, check.  Do some work, check.

I struggle to give a shit about any of it.






Comments

  1. UnknownJanuary 22, 2018 at 1:27 PM

    I fucking scream for your pain. I wish I could say or do something to ease that intense pain that is running through your veins...a transfusion of some sort. The reality of all of this is...NOTHING can be said or done for you or anyone else living this reality. It's a process, a process that you already know that is experienced individually. Time experienced individually. Patience isn't a concept now because there is such an urgency to feel something so eluding as happiness, joy and meaning. The light...being in the light, fighting for that light. I believe you are doing everything possible to walk through this in a positive, healthy manner. No one promised that those steps were going to bring an instant feeling of healing, pain free awakening. You are courageous, brave, articulate, emotional, caring and you are giving...giving that you want to share yourself, that self that is so raw and vulnerable right now with the world. I believe that there is a rainbow for you beyond your wildest dreams. I wish I could give you that rainbow right now. But that rainbow will come, you will make it come. I love you. I know you are going to find all that you are desiring to wake up to. Breath. So easy for me to say, I know. Breath. I know there are so many moments that you wish that would stop. Breath. Breath those breaths that all the loved ones that are gone wished they had. Breath.

    ReplyDelete
  2. anitrasimmonsJanuary 22, 2018 at 1:29 PM

    Thanks Glenda...Love you....It helps know you care.

    ReplyDelete
  3. lisajmacJanuary 22, 2018 at 4:41 PM

    My heart aches for you. I know that the only thing that kept my sister’s husband moving day to day was their pets. I’m going to go email him now and send him love. Thinking of you Anitra.

    ReplyDelete
  4. UnknownJanuary 23, 2018 at 1:07 AM

    This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  5. UnknownJanuary 23, 2018 at 1:09 AM

    Nothing that I could write, could adequately express my empathy for you or impact this tragic nightmare. You and Divine Solace for you, are in my constant prayers.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. anitrasimmonsJanuary 23, 2018 at 9:13 AM

      Thank you Samia Your kind words give me comfort. Life is hard and I by no means have the corner on suffering but I struggle...get back up...and struggle again. I guess that is what life is all about.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Love and Loneliness

Image
One of the emotions that most recently floods my being on a random basis is loneliness. I may choose to fight or embrace it depending on my mood. Loneliness is described in Wikipedia as an unpleasant emotion brought on by a response to isolation.  I don't FEEL isolated and I've never been REALLY lonely before, but I am still trying to peel the skin off how it makes me truly feel.  Every morning I wake up to silence and pause for a moment to listen.  I hear the air inhaling and exhaling from my body, the rain or wind gently blowing against the window, or the in-explainable sounds that a house makes as it breathes.  I never used to notice these vibrations in time, listening instead for my husbands puttering in the kitchen as he made coffee or emptied the dishwasher.  The lack of sound that another living body is near me, reminds me that I am alone and he is gone. Silence, in itself, tells me to listen to my own voice, inside my head.  Who am I?  What will I do with this
Read more

The Departure

Image
My eyes open to another cold December day.  The morning is like any other, but my life is on the edge of a transformation.  I lie still, my breath shallow, as thoughts slowly fill my mind, reminding me that my daughter is fighting for her life in a hospital bed fifteen miles away.  In my soul, I know she is dying.  Still grief stricken over my husbands demise, this new loss is staggering.  Illness, suffering and death have become an unfortunate way of life for me in the last three years.  I hate cancer, the insidious murderer who was stealing so much from me.  I struggle to shake off the lethargic effects of the nightly sleeping pill I take to find oblivion every night and force myself to put my feet on the floor and get up. I feel helpless and frustrated that as her mother, I can not heal her.  I could not save my husband and now, I can not save my daughter.  In the bottom of my mind, anger simmers.  I did not think it often, but on this day, I am mad that life has been cruel
Read more