Wednesday, September 10, 2008
boiling pot
Sometimes I feel that my medications are like a lid on a boiling pot, while my efforts and reinventing myself to disincline away from my depressive habits, are like blowing the fire on the gas stove that which this boiling pot sits on. The fire needs to be turned off, the pot cooled, washed and kept - Impossible.While I feel some semblance of normality now and have been for a while, I still feel debilitated enough that any goal-orientated effort is extremely depressing and strenuous. I motivate myself somewhat by writing and praying copiously enough to expunge all my crazy thoughts, relevant or otherwise. It works! Like treading water in the sea during a storm, I manage to stay afloat from time to time. It is tiring, and feelings of death and hopelessness cannot help but float by sometimes, it is open sea after all, treading water for so long can make you delirious.
I have come to accept that I will always be sick. With that acceptance comes the fact that since I will always be this way, I should stop waiting and working so hard to recover before I make something out of this meagre life of mine. Since I may never recover I might as well restart my career fully, now, else it is never.
We all have to stop thinking I will necessarily get better. I have to accept my tears, I have to accept the numbness and pain, I have to accept my bouts of recluse, I have to accept that it will be harder and more effort some to do things than it would be for normal people, I have to accept that sleeping and waking will be difficult, I have to accept that I will feel sad for most things seen and unseen, I have to accept that I will always need to ask for help whenever I feel anguish enough to want to die.
A persistent boiling pot that cannot be shut down, I will just have to keep watch over it so it doesn't boil over.