Following up
Its settling down now but I want to get this out before it fades away and life moves on as it is wont to do.
The fragility of yesterday sticks with me. The notion that my ability to function, to care for myself, to interacts and appreciate my environment is contingent upon a mere bottle of pills. That it can fade so quickly. Pass so fast. I am a lost suitcase away from insanity.
And hwat happens to me as a I age? As tomorrow comes and goes? Conventional medicine says that what is working will not, in fact work. No one will tell me that it will continue to work, or that I am not doing myself harm.
The pain and the frustration comes from expectations. Somehow I think it is distinctly unfair that while my peers were in their 20s, finding new ways to poison themselves, I was fighting everyday to make it to night. I am 34 now, and people are starting to experience the traitorous natures of their bodies, seeing infirmities and injuries that do not heal. Facing death and limited function. Well, join the fucking club amigos. That's how my life has been for 11 years. Broken while everyone was growing. On the sidelines while everyone was exploring. Contemplating death while you were contemplating life. So fuck you and fuck this. The reality is that I will feel better, one day, but it will be as the dark waves close over me and I sink into darkness for good. Thats the next day I will not be fragile and waiting to fall apart.
I remember CT, who died at 18. Brave and beautiful in giving in finally to Leukemia and 5 brain tumors, but just as dead. Was she angry? I dont know. Last time I saw her she could not have answered even if she was.
So there I was, lost and alone. Feeling cheated and broken, on the thin ice of my own sanity, hearing the creaking beneath me while now being asked to shoulder the burden of fatherhood. Its not a choice I would have made, and I wonder how much weight this ice can hold, and if it is just me who will go beneath the waters, or will I take others down with me?
I feel better now, just shaken. Just unsure. Just cheated and frail and false.
(as an aside, wow, my writing is much better when I am morbid. No wonder why depressives are so prolific)
GB
The fragility of yesterday sticks with me. The notion that my ability to function, to care for myself, to interacts and appreciate my environment is contingent upon a mere bottle of pills. That it can fade so quickly. Pass so fast. I am a lost suitcase away from insanity.
And hwat happens to me as a I age? As tomorrow comes and goes? Conventional medicine says that what is working will not, in fact work. No one will tell me that it will continue to work, or that I am not doing myself harm.
The pain and the frustration comes from expectations. Somehow I think it is distinctly unfair that while my peers were in their 20s, finding new ways to poison themselves, I was fighting everyday to make it to night. I am 34 now, and people are starting to experience the traitorous natures of their bodies, seeing infirmities and injuries that do not heal. Facing death and limited function. Well, join the fucking club amigos. That's how my life has been for 11 years. Broken while everyone was growing. On the sidelines while everyone was exploring. Contemplating death while you were contemplating life. So fuck you and fuck this. The reality is that I will feel better, one day, but it will be as the dark waves close over me and I sink into darkness for good. Thats the next day I will not be fragile and waiting to fall apart.
I remember CT, who died at 18. Brave and beautiful in giving in finally to Leukemia and 5 brain tumors, but just as dead. Was she angry? I dont know. Last time I saw her she could not have answered even if she was.
So there I was, lost and alone. Feeling cheated and broken, on the thin ice of my own sanity, hearing the creaking beneath me while now being asked to shoulder the burden of fatherhood. Its not a choice I would have made, and I wonder how much weight this ice can hold, and if it is just me who will go beneath the waters, or will I take others down with me?
I feel better now, just shaken. Just unsure. Just cheated and frail and false.
(as an aside, wow, my writing is much better when I am morbid. No wonder why depressives are so prolific)
GB
posted by warnerk | 2:33 PM
2 Comments:
Are you about to be a daddy?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borderline_personality_disorder
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