the past

Okay...

I'm going to write something that scares me.

I'm going to put this shadow right in the light and hope it disappears.

Dies.

Whatever.

I know this is a space for gratitude. I don't know how to get there without getting past here. Without being honest.

So, i sometimes feel like i should really be happy. I mean, i am lucky and blessed and surrounded by family and friends and love, i have these incredible kids, who are healthy and awesome and just amazing and We are fed and housed and clothed and our days are not a struggle to survive.

I am lucky.

And this... this makes it hard, because some days i am heavy with guilt and all sorts of issues when i have to admit to myself... i'm not happy.

Sometimes.

Only sometimes.

The last post.. i don't know... i tried to say something without saying anything.

I tried and choked on the shame of it. The fear of it. The immensity and nothingness of it.

The other night... i was telling Zane off for something... for not helping, for telling me to 'get over it'... and somewhere in the half argument, half desperation...

I lost it.

And free fell. Back into this space that terrifies me.

I don't know how to talk about it.

I don't know because it doesn't really make sense.

I'm a rational person, and i can't rationalise why- or how i feel this way.

Everything i was saying... out loud... was not what i meant.

The words that kept falling from my mouth... weren't anything but noise.

Noise to drown out something i couldn't face again.

People use that term 'depression' in uncomfortable ways for me, they use it like it like an excuse, a reason for not being able to.

I hate it.

And if they had to label me, i know all these terms will come up.

So the part of me that is more intelligent than that, is offended by it's implications.

The part of me that refuses help, always screams frustration.

I've been tired, and i've been pushing.

So i fight with Zane, and i keep going through these motions and i'm not really here, and i'm not really gone.

And that night, he walked out to take the garbage out, and something broke.

Something broke and i couldn't stop it, and i did something i haven't done in a long time.

I got under cold water. In the shower with my clothes on, i stood there til i couldn't breathe because it was so cold and i was crying. A long time ago, i used the water to stop the noise. The cold... it makes it hard to breathe, and when you have to focus on breathing, nothing else gets through. It works. It's harmless. I couldn't take hurting people with a brutal kind of crazy. It'd just add to my guilt. It hides this stupid ugly part of myself behind a closed door and a daily routine.

Everything was wrong, and nothing was wrong. Everything and nothing again.

There's that space... the one i sat in for over a year.

Where there was darkness and nothing, and me. With no reason to be so horribly sad, and still feeling it.

Paralysed by it.

Taunted by it.

And all the reasons to be happy, became more reasons to be ashamed.

All these things trusted to me, all the pretending that i knew what i was doing. That i know... that i am worthy of anything in my life... well all the smiling photos and all the things i do... it feels like painting over rotting wood.

I haven't felt like this in a long time.

Kids have a way of drawing you out of your own head. Out of spaces and into everyday life.

I know the kids were my salvation for the longest time now.

I panicked that night that they weren't a strong enough pull any more.

But  now... now there's so much more riding on everything. SO much more to lose.

So i'm standing under that shower hyperventilating.

Gasping for air and calm and things to just stop.

And i'm sure i'm actually repeating the word stop in between gasps and like always i see myself from outside of my self and i say mean things like ' Geez you're dramatic, get a fucking grip- cut it out and stop it. You're not crazy. Stop pretending.'

So there's one part of me that's pretending to be crazy and the other that's pretending to be normal and both these things are true. Both arguments make sense. I'm not crazy enough to be crazy. I'm not normal enough to be normal.

It's all pretence because underneath everything. I have no idea what i am.

This is what scares me the most.

The lack of anything that sits in the centre of me.

It's empty.

It's this empty space of nothingness and when i'm there. Nothing makes sense.

In the emptiness... there are echoes.

In the emptiness everything is magnified.

In the emptiness... i am frozen.

I remember it which makes it worse.

I remember the nights and the days and the weeks and the months and every single moment of feeling and not knowing how to stop it.

I remember it, and i am horrified because i cannot let it into my spaces now.

I have these kids and i am scared for them.

I know they see more than i think, know more than i say.

I can't break them.

I probably will.

Jesus.

And that fear... of not being able to be anything for anyone.

It swallows me whole.

And when Zane finds me he asks me why i have my clothes on in the shower, he tells me to stop being crazy.

I tell him to leave me alone. I can't do this right now. Just leave me alone.

I can't handle the fact that he's seen me like this. Know that there's really no coming back from it.

When i come out... i can't face him.

Can't talk to him.

No one's ever actually SEEN me like this.

He tries to say something. I am hysterical.

I say the first honest thing i have ever said to him in all my Why's and blame and all my many criticisms.

I tell him i am sorry.

I remember him saying sorry he wasn't perfect like me.

This time he just says he is sorry too.

But i am not sorry in that way, i'm sorry in this earth shattering sense that it's just occurred to me that everything i criticise about him in our entire time together or in anyone ever in my life for that matter... it's not because i'm better. It's all just this desperation to pretend i know things.

I know nothing.

Inside of it i'm hollow.

And i coat it all in why's and buts and it takes the focus off me.

I'm sorry because it  isn't the stress, the pressure, the daily grind of things that's been making me feel this way.

It's me.

It's this thing inside me.

And it's always been there.

And i am scared of it.

I thought i was over it.

I thought...

Then i tell myself to stop thinking.

It's not a choice any more.

They need me.

I can't be this. Not now. Not anymore.

And i don't say anything more to Zane who is quiet.

I don't say anything to anyone.

Because if i give voice to it, will it just be more real.

I have to get on with things.

I have a job now, kind of what i wanted - and these 3 amazing kids, who look at me and how i handle to the world.

And maybe if i keep pretending, they will make it through okay.

I've done it before. I almost believed it.

So why not again. This time it might stick.



Then... there's this new part of me.

Who watches quietly and says- let it go.

You need to let it go.

I won't talk to Zane. I won't look at him.

I am afraid that what he saw can't be unseen. The things i said can't be undone.

And that quietness, it says So what.


It is what it is. And you are who you are.


Let it go.


So here i am.

Kinda trying it.


Sometimes, i am funny and full of jokes and the good kind of crazy.

Sometimes i am full of words and advice and theories and philosophies.

And sometimes, i'm full of this.

Anxiety and fear and uncertainty.


And that is just how it is.


I can still be grateful here. I just need to let it go now.


This isn't a secret any more.

It's just me.