"After a minute or two, silence would rush into the room from its hiding place because I had eaten up all of the sounds."
-Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
 |
| Back in the days when I felt like someone special, not a pathetic mess. |
I'll admit, some days I can't help but crumble.
Life can really stink. It can be depressing and dark. Sometimes, it can cause permanent frown lines.
( I already have a few by the corners of my mouth, age doesn't matter so beware!)
( I already have a few by the corners of my mouth, age doesn't matter so beware!)
Yesterday morning I binged again (turns out I had high blood sugar, just another complication in this whole dilemma). Bringing on a day's worth of depression. Exercising helped me push my emotions aside, but my "tough, indifferent girl" facade cracked on the way home from a trip downtown with my Mom and brother. An ad about "quick and easy" weight loss came on the radio and a wave of anger crashed over me. I felt like I was drowning in emotions, mostly confusion and frustration.
Then came silence.
What else could I do?
My world just seemed to be closing in around me and claustrophobia kicked in. I chose to save my breath instead of wasting it. I went into survival mode.
Whenever I can't handle life, I shut down. It's my escape.
Once I lock down, it's hard to come back to reality. I try to hide it, but I'm pretty much an open book (...or more so blog). If I try to come to, it's like trying to stand with a broken leg; it can't be done and it's extremely painful. My family ends up suffering because of my emotions (or lack of) and when I do choose to speak, it's never positive or kind.
Not only do I suck the sound out of a room, I take the joy with me when I leave.
I usually try channel my frustrations towards myself and how I look. I push myself down in hopes of making myself hate who I am just enough that permanent change will finally happen.
It never does.
I run to the fridge for relief as soon as I can't take it anymore. I listen to my stomach instead of talking to others. It feels like a punch to the gut....and my self-esteem.
Usually sleep is just about the only thing that can bring me out of my depression.
I guess it's like walking outside after it rains.
Everything is still wet and murky, but at least the storm has passed.
My world just seemed to be closing in around me and claustrophobia kicked in. I chose to save my breath instead of wasting it. I went into survival mode.
Whenever I can't handle life, I shut down. It's my escape.
Once I lock down, it's hard to come back to reality. I try to hide it, but I'm pretty much an open book (...or more so blog). If I try to come to, it's like trying to stand with a broken leg; it can't be done and it's extremely painful. My family ends up suffering because of my emotions (or lack of) and when I do choose to speak, it's never positive or kind.
Not only do I suck the sound out of a room, I take the joy with me when I leave.
I usually try channel my frustrations towards myself and how I look. I push myself down in hopes of making myself hate who I am just enough that permanent change will finally happen.
It never does.
I run to the fridge for relief as soon as I can't take it anymore. I listen to my stomach instead of talking to others. It feels like a punch to the gut....and my self-esteem.
Usually sleep is just about the only thing that can bring me out of my depression.
I guess it's like walking outside after it rains.
Everything is still wet and murky, but at least the storm has passed.
No comments