, , ,

The truth is, I want to get this post over with, which is why I’m writing it a few hours sooner than I might otherwise. I don’t want to reflect, to think, or to be present with myself in any way what-so-ever. I want to disappear, to float, to forget. I tell myself it’s just for the rest of the day to make it more palatable. I lie.

I was so anxious today that for at least a couple of hours I felt like I might vomit. I tapped my arms rhythmically, one after the other and back again. I did it because someone asked me once if I ever use tapping to help myself regulate. I don’t. I don’t know what I was doing. I only wanted to make myself feel better. It didn’t ease the gapping hole in my abdomen, but it helped that I was trying. I turned off my phone for forty-five minutes, turned it back on for an hour and turned it off again. It didn’t make a difference. I tried to focus on my breathing, to focus on the music, to focus on what was happening in the moment in my car as I was driving through the Sierras. Anything to not be twelve steps ahead into an unknowable future. I think it helped a little. I called my dad. He didn’t answer.

I returned today to a life of normalcy. My canine companion is lying next to me on his back right now, all four paws up in the air. It helps to have him here. If nothing else, it gives me something to do. I know that I will wake up in the morning and walk him before having my coffee. I will walk him again in the afternoon, a long walk probably down to the water. It gives me something to break up my day.

I started this blog with the idea that I would step into my Depression, no longer running from it or apologizing for it. I think I was lying to myself. The truth is, I was hoping that by trying something new, I could finally free myself of it. Different fix, but the same intention. Always it seems to come back to wanting to be someone other than I am, to be something other than what I am. Even when I think I’m doing the opposite, it’s there underneath–the same story under different trappings.

Excuse me while I disappear.