Being Berrak,  Life,  Stream of Consciousness

Stream of Consciousness: January 1-February 5, 2016

Listen, can we please collectively ask 2016 to take a chill pill? It started out so blissfully hopeful. I was actually happy. Not even two weeks into the new year, the Universe realized that I was a little too happy and went “Oh, hey, hold your horses. Let’s crumble the foundation of everything making you happy right now. There goes the bliss.”

2016 is trying to dethrone 2006 as the Worst Year of My Life. 

I have spent more nights in 2016 crying myself to sleep so far than I did in all of 2015. My lows have never been lower. My anxiety is so bad that I have been just going through the motions. My heart is shattered into pieces so small that I’m not sure if putting them back together is possible.

I get up in the morning.

I usually make it out of bed, though out of the house is questionable.

I tried to explain this numbness to a friend of mine. I couldn’t. I felt like I was going in circles. I feel like trying to explain the turmoil going on in the deepest parts of my soul is an impossible task, which fucking sucks.

Because I can no longer handle this alone. I cannot. I feel helpless. I feel utterly useless. I feel like my soul is just kind of drifting, anchored to this life, but at the same time, so disconnected. I’ve been low before.  I’ve hit rock bottom and found escape at the bottom of the bottle.

This is something new.

In the past, hitting a low point meant I threw myself into destructive habits.

Now? I don’t even care enough for that. There is no escape. There is no light. There is no need to try to numb myself because that’s all there is.

So I go through the motions. I focus on work. I focus on breathing. I focus on feeding my cat. I remind myself to shower. Sometimes I remember to eat. There are a handful of people who I can tolerate to be around because they don’t require energy from me. I can just be.

I’m trying to find a corner to turn, but everything I try to hold on to is black and smooth. There are no places to hold on to. I just keep falling back down into darkness.

It’s now February. January was a fluke. This is the real start of the year.

The tears keep coming.

Did you know human beings are inherently selfish creatures? Even when we have the absolute best intentions, there’s no such thing as being 100% altruistic. We want things to turn out the way we want them.

My friends want to help, but they don’t understand that their best intentions aren’t always right.

I get exhausted.

I am exhausted.

I am drained.

I want to survive. I want to eventually get back to living. I want to nurture – myself. And then others.

I can no longer put others first. But I do. I consider every possible outcome. I play every scenario in my head. I try to be the strong person they’re used to.

I’m not.

I’m broken into a million pieces, and they’re all flipped upside down.

I put on the necklace and the ring with the reminders I need when I look down.

I see a glimmer of light.

Maybe that’s just the darkness playing tricks on me.

I give up.

I wake up.

I start again.