I'm tired, boss...

I'm still down the rabbit hole, spiraling in a soggy, suffocating depression. I don't know when I'll see the light again. The best I can do right now is just hope that eventually I will come in out of the dark. I'm not sleeping well,  I'm on the edge most of the time - there's just a perpetual lump in my throat waiting for some barrier to break so it can just let go and open the floodgates. I'm really not much of a donkey these days.  

I'm taking vitamins, all the damn vitamins. I'm writing in a scratch journal. The minute I feel the pressure threatening to overwhelm me, I grab it and I write. I'm meditating when I can, I'm trying really hard and I am keeping it together,  I'm just ... 🤷‍♀️ 

I feel very alone because I really don't have a support network of any type so it's like drowning and trying to save yourself by grasping at sticks, branches, kicking wildly, anything to keep from going under even for a second because you might not get back up. 

And there are parts of me that are just not sad now. There are parts of me that just ... don't care anymore. It's like apathy? Or emotional exhaustion maybe. I'm so fucking tired of myself that I'm just done listening because it's always the same - standing outside myself and rolling my eyes thinking "Jesus girl, get it together. What a bloody waste." And I have almost no sympathy for myself because I keep just assuming I did this to myself somehow..

I know that I need to learn to forgive myself,  to love myself, again, or to start with. I'm not sure. I have so little patience with me that I think it's not particularly me that's being so cold as perhaps the voices that I've heard my whole life, the people who never even wanted me, blaming me and telling me repeatedly how I'll never measure up, how fucking useless I really am. 

I did my best. I always did my best with what I had. I coped, and I soldiered on through; I patched my wounds myself with spit and toilet paper, and I pretended that my blistered and bleeding feet didn't hurt and somehow I just kept moving.  Nothing could have prepared me for how awful I would eventually be to myself though,  nothing. 

I sit here alone today and I know that it's just me,  it's always been just me and it will always be just me and its not some sudden epiphany that demonstrates just how bad of a person I've been, it's the scales falling from my eyes that blinded me and kept me from seeing that it's been just me all along. 

"You tell God the Father it was a kindness you done. I know you hurtin' and worryin', I can feel it on you, but you oughta quit on it now. Because I want it over and done. I do. I'm tired, boss. Tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with, or tell me where we's coming from or going to, or why. Mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world everyday. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head all the time. Can you understand?" ~Jon Coffey, The Green Mile (1999)