I wrote this last night but didn't post it. Let me note that I'm only posting it now because I feel better today, and I think it's important for me to chronicle this weird time in my life, the ups and downs. So:
Today was a blur. Not because I was so busy, but because I was so…not busy. I’ve read three novels in the past day and a half. I just realized the reason: it is more preferable to be in a fantasy world, the world inside a book, someone else’s story, than in my purgatory existence right now. I am numb. I am reclusive. I am not hungry. Not tired. Not sleeping. Not talking to many people. Not blogging. There is confusion about everything, it’s like I can’t do anything but doubt myself anymore. Did I suck at my job? Is that why they laid me off? Were they relieved to have a reason to let me go? Can I even write at all? Am I just spinning my wheels in advertising, and can I exist in this industry with all the unknowns and instability?
Will I ever feel “in love” again? Will I ever feel my heart leap at a phone call or an email from someone with potential? I honestly can’t remember that feeling. Right now all I can feel is this emptiness, this numbness, this self-doubt. I feel like everything I say is boring. That’s why I haven't been blogging, because I have nothing interesting to say.
I’m reading a memoir right now. About a woman’s dysfunctional childhood. I love reading these books for some reason; I never get tired of hearing others’ horrors of childhood and how they overcame them to become something, someone. To write a book. To be interesting enough for a complete stranger to want to read about one’s life. Like a blog, only on a giant scale.
Will I ever be a mother? Do I even want this? My body is so out of whack that my period hasn’t started this month; I don’t know how long it has been, and I don’t care. I don’t feel different, though; I just figure my body is on hold too; holding its breath to see wtf is going on here before regaining normal function. Then again, the way I feel right now is very PMS-esque…
I feel raw, I feel fragile. I feel fat, although I seem to still be shrinking. I feel sluggish. I cannot sleep to save my life. I’ve tried wine, I’ve tried sleeping aids, I’ve tried hot baths at 2am – nothing, my mind will not turn off. I think this is why I keep reading, devouring stories, ripping through book after book – to keep my mind from spinning out of control, considering all the possibilities and comparing them with bleak reality.
Today I made myself leave the house for the first time in 48 hours. I walked to the mailbox and back. Yippee for me. It felt good, though. Right now, right this moment, I would love to go outside and walk around my neighborhood in the pre-storm wind, smelling the coming rain, feeling the thunder before I can hear it. But I have this bizarre fear that a neighbor will call the police, thinking someone is creeping around ready to break into houses or something, since the pod people that live in my neighborhood (including myself) tend to not go outside after 6pm. It’s a ghost town out there. And now it’s after 2am, and I finally want to walk. I want to breathe in the air and feel the wind. Instead, I write this stream of consciousness crap, trying to purge my soul so perhaps I can rest.
I’m going to go take a bath with wine and maybe by dawn I’ll be exhausted enough to rest. Perhaps.