Sunday, March 27, 2011
No Where Left To Go
Where do you go when that last happy place left in your mind is gone? Where do you go when everything is negative, depressing and gray? Where does your mind go? Your imagination? I've been toying with these thoughts, trying to answer these questions, but I haven't quite come up with a satisfactory answer. I feel like the world is mocking me. Everything I have done, every non-action on my part has lead me to this dreary existence. The days go by, the hours pass and my mind resists every positive notion to react. To take part. To live. My days consist of dealing with reality long enough, until that moment when I can sit down and melt the day away with my liquid drug. Ah, that moment. My salvation. What I get out of bed for each morning. What I push all the guilt and self-lecturing out of my head for. Why should I listen to my conscience? What is eating right going to do for me? I always end up back in the same spot. What good is exercising and making it a priority for? I always end up out of breath and out of shape. What good is making a fresh start? I always end up sabatoging any progress I make. No, I'd rather let my mind drift into my fantasy life and live there. Everthing is so perfect and amazing there. I'd rather dvr a myriad of shows and let my mind escape there, into hours of mindless television. I'd rather follow twitter updates and read the latest feature articles rather than focus on my life, career, health, family and household. I'd rather get into a good book than get into my life and make a difference. I've been talking to God. I ask Him for guidance. I think He has shown me some. If I choose to interpret the signs I have seen. So far I have ignored them. It takes hard work to follow God's signs. I feel bad for even asking for them. My children are in trouble, but even that reality is not enough to shake me out of this existance I have chosen for myself. I am slowly killing myself. My body is shot, my mind is not far behind. I seem to have given up. It should be painful, but it is somehow, not. I am at an uncomfortable peace with myself, just getting through each day. Getting out of each day, exactly what I put into it. Nothing. I hope someday my children can forgive me for checking out like this. I was never able to forgive my mom. Now it seems I am following in her footsteps. Something, I used to swear I would never do.