quinta-feira, 5 de agosto de 2010

Tipping Scales

Whenever I start giving myself a hard time for my apparent "stuckness" in life, I make myself remember where I come from and what it has taken to get to where I am now. Then I relax. A little. There's always a little edge of tension and guilt when I confront myself with the unavoidable questions that family/friends/strangers throw my way, the infamous trio: what did you do/what are you doing/what will you do? Really, what is people's obsessions with my doings? But it's understandable as well, that's our people location map nowadays, people only make sense to us on the basis of what they DO and the many ramifications of that. It sucks, if you ask me.

So, back to what I started off with...My main task nowadays is keeping my feet off the fickle trail that gets too close to the cliff edge of depression. It's a vital task that also goes invisible to most. When you're in the pit or hanging off the edge, it's obvious what you're fighting for and people are sympathetic, mostly. But the post-depression maintaince is not so obvious and not so sympathy-provoking.
It's volumous work. After years of this I've got the moves down, but that doesn't make it easier. First, there is the recognizing and listing of the various red flags that are real no-no's for someone who has a record like me.
The slightest alterations in energy levels must be watched and quickly balanced, for highs can lead to crashes and slumps can lead to a snowball effect of down down down.
The waking up thermometer must also be watched...how difficult is the notion of another day? How does my stomach react? If it does, I must quickly get up, get up, GET UP and get my coffee going and something in gear, for that is a dangerous trap, the stomach churns.
The negative thoughts, devastating thoughts that are so logical and tempting, such as: you are worth nothing, you are lazy, you are a coward, everyone else is capable, why not you? you'll never be anything in life, only a burden to others, you don't deserve be alive. Oh god, with all my willpower I have to get out my chainsaw and cut these pernicious branches away! I can't even stop to consider if they make sense, for like Medusa's glare, they will turn me into stone.

I feel I'm still on the brink between having to be fully aware of this and between being able to let go and not be so afraid.
I hope the scale tips for good soon.

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