*Not my creation
I wonder if I will forever feel like I accidentally boarded the wrong train a year ago and the driver wont listen to my pleas to make it stop. Theres tears running my mascara down my face and Im crying silent tears as I watch the greens and blues fly by the nearest window as the train zigzags the countryside.
I woke up for work today and it was still dark out. The first time thats happened in at least 3 months and as I opened my eyes from the blackness in my head and was greeted by the equal blackness of the world I wanted to not be here anymore. I wanted not to BE, anymore. The seasons change is always hard on me and I feel an especially bad sense of fear for this years equinox. Like I went to bed one day after the beautiful sun had set its warmth beneath the horizon and I woke up into perpetual darkness that I will not get out of.
I read a post today by one of the greatest bloggers, if not THE greatest of all time Dooce that hit hard. Because nothing made more sense to me at that very moment, or ever on this subject then when she said:
“Jon looked at me over my iced tea and asked me what was wrong. I didn’t know what to say to him because, while I knew there was something wrong, I didn’t know what it was.
What is worse? Being sad because something tragic has happened, or being sad because that is all your brain knows how to do? The tragedy will lose its swelling with time, but your brain stubbornly follows you, leads you, sticks it’s finger in your eye when you wake up in the morning and realize, fuck, I’m still alive.”
Because even though it doesnt seem like much, I DO have things to be happy for. I have something, whatever it is that will make me smile every day and right now I have such a sense of fear that those smiles will soon be a thing of the past as I am being catapulted into the literal darkness against my will as I type this. And I know that each day it will be something different. Each day, the reason I cant stop crying, or the reason I cant start crying, or the source that I dwell on and analyze to death will change as the leaves themselves do, because that is what I do. I have to salt my own wounds and tear my own heart out and dwell and think and analyze and ponder and rethink and brainstorm, for really no other reason then my inability to let myself make mistakes and forgive those mistakes and move on.
Facing the winter has always felt like an impossible challenge but facing it alone, makes it much, much worse. And even though I will never, never admit it to anyone in my life, I am scared. Very, incredibly, and completely scared of the future. Scared that the decision I made one year ago that started a chain reaction of the highest highs, and the lowest lows will continue to effect me so deeply for the rest of my life. And if someone put a gun to my head and made me decide if I would take it all back, I would have my brain blown through my forehead because I could never and will never be able to make a decision on that. Eternal regret is a diseased animal gnawing at your throat on an all day every day basis. And when Im having a weak moment and allow myself a second of thought on the matter, I feel like I could crawl into the blackest of holes and bury myself under the weight of the world.