an empty toothpaste tube
I am lying in bed and crying because I have run out of ideas on how to feel and act better. My cat, Sayang, knows something is wrong and has taken time out from her nap to watch over me.
Of course, technically, I am alone. I tire anyone who takes care of me, and it shows because the house is in a mess that J can't get round to clean. It would take all of me to do it, if succeeding in that chore is even possible for me. I have but just a little lifeblood in me left.
Like an almost empty toothpaste tube being squeezed of its life just to get that last bit of toothpaste juice on the toothbrush.
Like hanging on a ledge and feeling almost no strength left to hold on any longer.
I can barely breathe because a lump is in my throat from trying to hold back tears. Tears from a pain that has always been present for no real reason, only momentarily absent now and then from aid of medication or numbing out on something occupational or otherwise. Which means that the reality is living with pain every day.
I'm tired.
Anyone fighting forever would be tired. It isn't my fault that I am exhausted every day. Being able to accept that isn't easy but I try and sometimes believe it. I push away guilt and the Elaine that condemns myself for being unable, lazy, selfish, weak.
The first thing you learn in clinical depression is that you will condemn yourself for having it in the first place. Accepting that you need to be healed is probably the biggest step of all.
And so I turn and look inward, within myself. I see the abyss. The drained out toothpaste tube. It hurts so fucking much to see the darkness swirling with whatever life is left inside. To know that you are truly alone in my pain no matter how much empathy you can garner from others.
This pain: it curls you up and crumples your entire self from within. It is a physical thing you can feel. Sooner or later I might run out of ways to describe the pain. But it is there regardless, with no respect for what I think.
For now, I will lay whispers of tears on my pillow and face this abyss, rest like a patient being ordered to, just be. Accept the pain in my chest, but not giving up - for as long as is possible.
Ain't no mountain high enough right? Ha, perhaps.
Labels: state