It's been five months since I've been on my own.
I've looked back more than I've looked forward, but at least I've remained in the present even if I've been immobile. I'm still griped by emotion and sometimes cry at night as I lie alone in bed thinking about what was and what will no longer be. I know I cannot go back. I don't want to go back, but moving forward is difficult and terrifying. I'm not ready yet, but I so desperately want to be.
Time. It is all about time and only time will tell. But how much time do I need before I can take a step out from under this proverbial rain cloud? Depression often holds me in its strangling embrace and I am unable to breath, but I don't want help. Admitting I need it is admitting I am a failure. It shows that I am weak. It is embarrassing. I don't want medication, I don't want advice. I know what I need to do, but I simply cannot find the energy to do it.
I sometimes make a conscious effort to be miserable, because it's all I've known since that heartbreaking conversation eight months ago. It's easier to remain unhappy, because it's what's familiar. I cling to it even though I know it's unhealthy, but sometimes I think it's better than facing a scary world full of unknowns. It is my comfort zone.
I don't take risks and I can't do change very well, but everything has changed. I've been thrown into the deep end and I don't know how to swim. I flail about, my heart pounding so hard in my chest it hurts. I am sinking. I try to remain calm, but inside I am reeling. I can't breath. And that is how I react to change.
More and more of late, my anxieties are getting the best of me, but I hide it well. I am alone so no one notices that I've worn the same shirt for the past three days. I sleep all day and watch NCIS reruns all night and into the early morning hours. Sometimes I forget to brush my teeth. I post something witty on Facebook and everyone thinks I'm fine, but I'm not.
I'm afraid to try because what if I invest everything of myself into being happy and all my dreams come true? Life would be good, but then the pessimist in me reminds me that I could lose everything again and find myself in the exact same spot I was before. The same wretched place I am now.
I'd have to start all over again, but my losses would be greater because I had for a brief moment experienced something far better. So why should I make the effort when I can keep everything status quo? It makes sense in my crazy mind, but absolutely no sense when I put it into written words.
Some say it's better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all, but I wonder if they'd ever had to experience the heartbreak of losing someone who was your everything? I'd rather pull my blanket over my head than seize the day and show the world, show myself, that I am in charge. I know no one is responsible for my happiness except for me, but for today, tomorrow, and perhaps next week, it will be easier to go back to bed than to rise up and face my challenges.
I look around at my tiny apartment, at the things that I now have that we once shared and the memories are heavy. I wish it would all go away. I close my eyes and hope that when I open them again I will be a million miles away, but nothing changes and I wonder if that is for the best.
Albert Einstein is credited with saying, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results." That is me. Same shit, different day. I need a new approach, because what little I've done isn't working. I need to start thinking differently, be more positive, and be more proactive to my wellbeing. I am the only one that can make the change I seriously need to get into a better state of mind.
Somewhere inside of me I have what it takes, I know I do, but it is buried deep. I need to find the energy and courage to find myself again, but only time will tell. However, in the meantime, I can go brush my teeth and smile at myself in the mirror because it's been awhile since I've seen my smile.
