Liquid Courage

This is not going to be a long entry.  I can feel my eyes starting to blear–each blink burning more and more–my retinas begging me to rest, begging me to discontinue use if only for a moment.

I’m tired.  Or at least my body is successfully convincing  my brain that that be the case.  I feel hollow.  I am devoid of energy–the weighty cloak of lethargy enveloping my soul and encasing my limbs.  I seem to be atrophying.  Every muscle aches with phantom pains.  The desire to outstretch–to shake off the cobwebs and reach for the stars continues to exist.  I’m not without a dream–I’m not without the will to improve my mind and body.  But, the act, the physical act of movement as trivial as taking a step in the direction of the door–paralyzes me.

Believe me–I have worked through every possible ailment in order to attribute these symptoms to something real–something I can point to and place the blame upon.  But, no matter how hard I search, I continue to come up short.

If the answer is not lying in a well-worn edition of Gray’s Anatomy or one of the pages of WebMD then where is my scapegoat?  What is the source of this general malaise?  Why do my eyelids hang heavy?  Why do my tendons scream out when I attempt to engage in any activity whatsoever?

I’ve deduced that the culprit is nothing physical.  I’m in fairly good health.  When I finally succeed at deceiving my brain into yanking my ass out of a bed and onto a treadmill I excel.  I’m a natural athlete.  A run around the block at a quick pace is a cake-walk.  Bench presses, squats, crunches–all a breeze.  All accomplished without an inkling of aching or soreness.

No, the true reason for this ambling through life appears to be entirely conjured up in my head.  I’ve grown to loathe my sarlacc pit of a mind.  I devour knowledge–I crave it.  I need stimulation to live and breathe.  But, I’m getting none.  I am in this stagnant pond attempting to reach the other side, but despite my greatest efforts I am only sinking deeper into the black water around me.  Why?

No clue.

Well, I suppose if a gun, cold and unforgiving, was pressed against my temple, I would be able to pinpoint several isolated instances in my past that have led to this apparent immobility and inactivity.  I can take educated guesses–as I have had nothing but copious amounts of time to pour over all of the facts, truths and pieces of evidence available. I refuse to detail these seemingly trivial moments from my past that have come to so devastatingly shape my future–only because the average reader would fail to understand how an event so completely minute could lead to the downfall of an almost prodigal talent– how something that most would brush off their shoulder and label as insignificant went on to infiltrate every vein, every fiber and every vessel within my fragile shell.  The most diminutive of instances could tarnish and corrupt the golden bright path that had been prematurely laid in front of me.


But, reality is something tough to ignore.  I can’t rewind through the past four years and alter the twists and turns my life has taken.  It is what it is, ya know?  The only solution is to address the problem and fucking fix it already.  It’s this cycle of inaction.  It’s seeing the finish line ahead of me, but being able to come up with no feasible way of reaching it.

All of the ways I have attempted to patch up old wounds and mask the issues at hand have proved fruitless.  I have found love.  I have found support.  I have even found jobs that would be perfect avenues for achieving stability and providing me with a solid enough foundation to normalize–if just for a moment.  So, now I know.  I can’t do this alone, but I have worn out my welcome with such frequency that I have no one left to turn to.

I can hardly face my parents without the pangs of guilt crippling me on the spot.  I am the child they wish they had never conceived.  I am the big mistake who ended up being more trouble than I was worth.  I am able to see that they may love me, but they sure don’t like me too much.  And I can’t blame them.  It would appear from the outside looking in that I have made choice after choice–fully cognizant of the repercussions of each of them–with the worst intentions in mind.  That every action existed just to take advantage of their generosity and responsibility as my parent.  But, that would be to oversimplify a very complex matter.  This is not a situation that can be so easily wrapped up in a big red bow–I’m not a simple case.  I’m more complicated than I can ever iterate to someone.   So, to generalize would be to slight and diminish everything I have been through.  I do understand, however.  I’m not an easy pill to swallow, and sometimes I wish they had not had me either.

Things are especially dour in recent days.  I am head over heels–crazily in love with the most beautiful soul on earth.  She has been my rock.  She has been the person I turn to each time I need reassurance or a shoulder on which to rest my weary head.  She is always there.  But, I feel that I do not deserve her kindness or generosity.  I believe in my heart of hearts that despite the depth to which I KNOW she loves me, that she would be best in the arms of someone more capable of providing for her.  I am a live wire.  Being with me is tough.  She has the patience of a saint and I am eternally grateful for the extension of support she has gifted me.  But, my love and admiration is not enough to make a relationship work.  I have to be a better person–more dependable, more stable, more willing to make sacrifices in order to give us the best chance at having a happy life.

I need to get better to keep her.  She won’t leave me.  That much I know.  She loves me to the same extent that I do her.  But, I refuse to sit there and watch her hoist the world upon her bantam shoulders.  She is young.  I cannot rest my feet upon her back as she works her ass off to support us both.  It’s not fair.  I view this as temporary, but in the meantime it is giving me significant amounts of grief and making me feel even more insubstantial as a human being.

God.  I’m lonely. I’m self-loathing. I’m hideous.  But, I still manage to find humor in every day events that provide me periods of respite from the darkness.  All in all, I’m not unhappy.  But, I do wish I could find some friends.  I may take a while to get to know–but I know that I have a lot to offer.  I WANT TO ADD MORE PEOPLE TO MY WOLF PACK!

Longer than I thought. Hmph.


About littlelostsunny

Lost inside her mind. Inspired to blog because if not the thoughts start to control my life. I needed an outlet.

Posted on January 27, 2010, in Long and Twisty Diary Entries and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. HERE, HERE!


  2. wants to be in your lone-wolf pack ❤
    I've been passively suicidal for over 7 years… lots of meds, docs, & counselors… but I'm still F'd 😦
    Love you Sunny.


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