There are times when I truly can’t figure out whether I’m losing my battle with depression or life really does suck, not that it matters, since I can’t do much about either and both piss me off.
The down-and-outness of being down-and-out for so long makes it difficult to rise above the ever-mounting shit and even I am bored with my pathetic attempts to climb. I hate this wimpy, beaten me, but my hands are so shredded from grasping at straws, pulling at bootstraps and clinging to hope that it’s hard to concoct oomph from ack, yikes and not again.
I’m not unfamiliar with the layout of this tunnel, but the repeated encounters where light at the end of it turned out to be nothing but a rapidly approaching train have have set me to cowering along the moldy walls, and with retreat not an option, advancing unlikely and standing still dangerous it doesn’t help much that I know where the exits are since they are locked tight.
Recent flickers of brightness were mere tricks of the eye that proved to be annoyingly less than nothing and only served to emphasize the darkness, but that’s actually okay; I’m not afraid of the dark, just of what lurks in it. You’d think by now I’d have stopped paying attention to to gleams cast by fool’s gold, yet I I still tend to stumble in their direction, knowing all along that I’m bound to fall on my face … again.
I know the old adage that says, “Sometimes the only thing one can change is attitude”, and I can wear that for a while. It’s easy enough to count my blessings, revel in the good fortune that brought me my children, my friends, the creative outlet I have, the beauty around me … and be grateful.
In so many ways I am a very lucky woman. I’m not starving in Sudan or in danger of freezing on the streets of St. Petersburg. I have a house and a view and a car and a fridge, shoes and shirts and shorts, books … even an iPad, FFS. Three out of four of my kids are alive … wonderful, smart and healthy … blessings every one. I have great friends, interesting conversation, and laugh often.
So what’s my problem?
See?
I can see the glass as half full while at the same time knowing how close to empty it is. It just takes effort.
I have problems. I suffer from depression, impetuosity, rotten taste, generosity, hope, pride, a wide range of faults, fear. I live on a small island, am a 60-year-old single-parent with limited prospects and energy, few resources and am running out of ideas. People expect a lot from me, and I rarely let them down. Demands mount daily while nothing presents that might allow me to meet them.
I need help, don’t know where to look for it and would be reluctant to ask if I did.
Consider this post blather. I’ll get over it.
A collection of my short stories:
I'm in this one, too ...
And I'm in here, as well ...
Paradise Preoccupied 
I understand completely. Have many of the same problems and also many of the same blessings and lucky enough to have resources i.e. Bob, Shepherds Wellness, etc that you do not.and I so wish you did. What are my expectations from you? To love you and be loved in return. Period. Consider this a reply to blather with more of the same. Love you.
Thank you, Love. And I do wish I had more to cling to …
Maybe this will help bring a smile or chuckle: http://ezpzapps.com/blog/?p=83
Philosophical, Hindu theme park in the Wicklow mountains of Ireland. Note the large female organ for an entranceway.
We had big fun there.
sims
Hey Sandra, yeah i get you… just a fine line between realising everything is shit or being delusional that it all means anything. Sometimes we are in those delusional phases and don’t notice it’s all a load of bollocks – I reckon we only find those happy delusional phases when we’re distracted by something. That might be while chatting away an evening over a few pints (or bottle of wine or whatever), maybe watching your kids doing something that amazes you, maybe daydreaming about some adventure, or walking round a new place and taking new stuff in. Distractions from the bollocks are what, for me, gives me those delusional moments you might call being happy. I’m over in Seychelles in September… although I’ll mostly be on Aride, one weekend I’ll make it over to Mahe and we can share a delusional (a.k.a. happy) evening. We’ll never figure out how Life is supposed to work, so I’ll give up on trying to make it ‘work’ and just get on with stumbling haphazardly from one thing to the next. As long as I can get distracted intermittently on the way, I’ll settle for that 🙂 xx
Looking forward to a weekend delusional phase with you next month, Adam! I remember well one you provided that involved a helicopter and still pull that out from time to time with a smile …
Depression sucks. I have been fighting for the last 3 years. I decided recently to start “faking energy/enthusiasm”. I will see how it goes.
I have you find something that makes you feel a tiny bit better.
Faking it is how I have managed to get by for a long time. It sometimes even works, Ang. Good luck!
What is it that would make you happier?
A discontinuation of incoming shit asteroids and some solid ground covered in rugs that stay put.
blathering and drooling with you. misery does love company.
Misery shared is misery divided …
Hi Sandra,
This post is quite timely for me since I just got home from a depressing weeks stay in the hospital under emerg conditions after being ill for five days at home with what I thought was a virus. A savvy ER doc diagnosed perricarditis and the cardiologist drained 750cc fluid from my heart. The condition is related to RA disease. Now I’m on all kinds of meds that make my guts ache. Sadness creeps in a few times each day and the feeling of utter pointlessness is fairly constant. The only consolation is I tell myself that my son still needs me even though he is 28. Maybe, I should be happy I’m alive, but somehow it doesn’t quite fit.
Tunnel blather is all too familiar to me. Thanks for raising the topic. I too, will probably get over it sometime.
I’d been wondering what was up with you, Marianne, and am sorry to hear you’ve been going through this crap. I’ve missed you …
Had to go back for more crap on the weekend and just got released again today. Doc took me off meds to soon and I rebounded. Now they have me weaning off meds slowly. It’s a sucker that my rheumatologist is on holidays and can’t comment on all this crap. Someone said ‘whatever you resist persists’. First time, I refused the blood takers because they kept hurting and bruising me saying that if you can’t do it properly you’re not touching me again. Second time, the first emerg nurse I encountered left several bruises up and down both arms and a huge hematoma. There may be a lesson in all this crap, but I’m too pe’d off about the whole ordeal to learn it right now. I am glad I’m back and hopefully the meds will keep me out. Missed reading your posts and comments also. 🙂
Yikes!
Take care, my friend …
“There are times when I truly can’t figure out whether I’m losing my battle with depression or life really does suck” in the end my dear, I think it dose not make a lick of difference, the outcome becomes the same. Most people talk about personalities in a glass half empty, half full kinda thing, I don’t think our problem lays in the way we view the contents of the glass, its more about the energy we have to spend everyday to keep that fucker half filled with something that takes its toll
Energy is the problem, Bobby. I’m tired …
I can relate to that dear…
Sorry to hear that, Bobby …
Familiar with the long dark tunnel, the approaching headlights and the inability to summon enough energy to care. Been there, done that. Or is it am there, doing that? Hard to tell sometimes. Hang in there, love. We’re not home yet. ((HUGS))
Thanks, Tish …