Nearly broken & beaten down…

Once again I find myself wondering how long I plan on keeping up writing here. I wonder why I should even bother, when it’s not as enjoyable as it once was. I remember when I would come on this page and check in with quite a few people who wrote on here, read notes, leave notes, etc. It was like catching up with friends. But now it’s so different. I wonder if everyone else just grew out of this phase and I am one of the few left. It feels almost empty sometimes. Part of that is most likely my fault, I mean, I used to write every day (or just about) and now it’s been probably about six weeks since my last update. Once again I find myself wondering why I come here to vent about the same things, yet when I need this outlet, I am so thankful it is here. It’s like a small crutch I can rely on anytime should I choose to.

I feel like my thoughts are not my own. I find myself wanting to write what people want me to say and not what I really am feeling. But what am I feeling? I don’t know if I am ever sure of that anymore. I’ve been feeling detached. I’ve been feeling isolated. I’ve been feeling claustrophobic and trapped. Does that even make any sense to anyone, because it certainly makes no sense to me. Some days I feel like I am suffocating, unable to breathe, unable to speak, unable to relax, unable to even think. I feel like I am always watched, I feel like I am always under a microscope, always being judged and criticized – sometimes it’s almost like I can hear the negativity surrounding me. It is in this negativity that I am drowning, because I feel like if I try to be positive about something, then something comes along and zaps that positivity from me. I feel like any success I may have is overshadowed by doubts and insecurities. I feel like I have no power to speak on my own, to speak for myself, or I am too tongue tied to even be understood. Again, does that make any sense?

I either feel like I am too rested or not rested enough. I feel like I have no energies to go about the things that I want to do, so instead I end up doing nothing at all and find myself not accomplishing any of the things I want to do. I know I have mentioned this before but I feel like the time is flying by faster than ever before. About the only thing I feel like I have time to do is crochet – and that’s only because I’ve been doing it on road trips, on work breaks, and on my lunch hour. But scrapbooking/picture albums? Writing? Working out? Teaching myself computer software? Doing my fingernails? Dyeing my hair? Job hunting? I even tried to carve out a night to myself and instead it seems to have backfired on me because I feel that since I have done that the problem has only been worse.

And boy, do I feel like a hypocrite! I go on an on about the Bible, but how often do I make 15 minutes to read the Word? Not lately. I talk about being proactive, making lists to get things done, but do I ever stick to them? No. I have great and grandiose plans but find it hard to find the time to bring them to fruition. I can’t even bring myself to figure out how to accomplish my brilliant ideas. Then I find myself looking at the calendar, saying, “Holy crap, where has the time gone?!” and the cycle perpetuates itself, making me more and more trapped in this spiral of unproductive, lethargic nothingness.

So what have I done? I lose myself in books – mostly crafting or cookbooks, the occasional novel or non fiction thrown in for variety. The better to feed my great ambitions (examples: “I want to go to Japan!”, “How wonderful would it be to crochet some throw pillow covers?”, “I wish I could bead more necklaces and bracelets and start my own business!”, “I am going to learn Italian”, “How I wish I could go back to school and actually get a decent job”). All these things that I wish I could have and be, but where is the time for them, if I can’t even function right now?

Maybe it’s the fact that I thought somewhere along the line, everything would be perfect all at once. But it isn’t. How naïve could I possibly be? When will I learn there is no such thing as perfection (add that to the hypocrite pile; I always say that, yet expect it from myself)? And that’s one of the things that makes it the hardest to smile – that the things that are easy for me to accept in others are so hard to accept in myself? I don’t want to face myself, I don’t want to look in the mirror and see the places where I fall short. I find it hard to smile in general.

I want to see and do and go – this past weekend we made a day trip to Cincinnati to see some baseball and it was way too short. We didn’t have time for anything else – well that, and going to Jungle Jim’s. I could feel myself crying out for the chance to see something new, to turn the car in the complete opposite direction – anywhere but home. Then I felt guilty for doing so.

Well, time to wrap up the workday and perpetuate the illusion that I am being productive. Maybe someone will actually believe me, even though I am sure that a trained circus monkey would probably be better suited for being here. At least he would enjoy it more.