Postponing
Postponing
November 29, 2011
I cannot bring myself to go to sleep.
Not that I am not tired. But going to sleep now would mean having to wake up in the morning and having to go through all them things again. I know I must. But not sleeping delays it a bit. If I lay down, the morning will be there in a moment.
I don’t really know what to do. Better said, I don’t really know how I should behave, what my attitude should be. I try to be cool and accepting and let it wash over me as I go with the flow; it does not work. I try to be conscious of everything and feel my emotions and cry and be upset and ventilate all my fears to others; it does not work. The trouble does not change for it. It’s just effort directed in different ways. On the one hand I know I must get better and invest whatever energy into this, on the other I quietly, passively beg for it to just stop. Because this is not how I want to be living my life right now. And the long term gets foggy if you cannot even predict the certainty of your activities next month.
So what do I do? How do I live? Because I do live still. And in the moments I quite like it. I can enjoy the sun, a good book, fun company. It is the context of life that is too much for me at times like now, the simple dealings that let us move from A to B. Losing touch with this natural flow means losing touch with a very essential part of life itself and is that which allows me to drift away from it. Into apathy, a total stand-still. Not into myself, for the heavy breathing body I am aware of when deeply depressed feels devoid of my own presence. Apart from the blankness pierced with the occasional fear or shame, there is one thought constantly piercing my mind then: I want to disappear. I want to disappear. I want to disappear.
Not forever. But in that instant, in that life of only sleeping, eating and shitting, you want but to be rid of the excruciatingly painful paradox of knowing you are a living person in an amazing world while not being able to be aware of this, appreciate this, deal with this. Your sheer existence feels too hollow and dead for it. You just want to even the status; being unable to become the lively person life asks for, I want to not be there while I am unable to be there. I’ll be there again when I can. But not now. I sleep hours on end not just because I can’t do much else, but also in an effort to forget myself and whatever life I used to live. Through all the numbness that rules me in such a state, the pain of this “being yet not being” paradox somehow never subsides. And it is the most cruel, cruel pain.
I am not that far yet. Else I would not be able to gather my thoughts and write them down so coherently like I am doing now. I simple have arrived at another blank point. Too aware to let myself merely be directed on my own whims and the directions of others without having to worry over the meanings too much, too apathetic to be able to direct my awareness into much good.
I just don’t know what to do. And I know there’s no one who can tell me with certainty what to do, either. We can just “try”.
I think I will try to sleep just now. Two hours before having to start the day again is a quickness no insomnia can lengthen.
November 29, 2011
I cannot bring myself to go to sleep.
Not that I am not tired. But going to sleep now would mean having to wake up in the morning and having to go through all them things again. I know I must. But not sleeping delays it a bit. If I lay down, the morning will be there in a moment.
I don’t really know what to do. Better said, I don’t really know how I should behave, what my attitude should be. I try to be cool and accepting and let it wash over me as I go with the flow; it does not work. I try to be conscious of everything and feel my emotions and cry and be upset and ventilate all my fears to others; it does not work. The trouble does not change for it. It’s just effort directed in different ways. On the one hand I know I must get better and invest whatever energy into this, on the other I quietly, passively beg for it to just stop. Because this is not how I want to be living my life right now. And the long term gets foggy if you cannot even predict the certainty of your activities next month.
So what do I do? How do I live? Because I do live still. And in the moments I quite like it. I can enjoy the sun, a good book, fun company. It is the context of life that is too much for me at times like now, the simple dealings that let us move from A to B. Losing touch with this natural flow means losing touch with a very essential part of life itself and is that which allows me to drift away from it. Into apathy, a total stand-still. Not into myself, for the heavy breathing body I am aware of when deeply depressed feels devoid of my own presence. Apart from the blankness pierced with the occasional fear or shame, there is one thought constantly piercing my mind then: I want to disappear. I want to disappear. I want to disappear.
Not forever. But in that instant, in that life of only sleeping, eating and shitting, you want but to be rid of the excruciatingly painful paradox of knowing you are a living person in an amazing world while not being able to be aware of this, appreciate this, deal with this. Your sheer existence feels too hollow and dead for it. You just want to even the status; being unable to become the lively person life asks for, I want to not be there while I am unable to be there. I’ll be there again when I can. But not now. I sleep hours on end not just because I can’t do much else, but also in an effort to forget myself and whatever life I used to live. Through all the numbness that rules me in such a state, the pain of this “being yet not being” paradox somehow never subsides. And it is the most cruel, cruel pain.
I am not that far yet. Else I would not be able to gather my thoughts and write them down so coherently like I am doing now. I simple have arrived at another blank point. Too aware to let myself merely be directed on my own whims and the directions of others without having to worry over the meanings too much, too apathetic to be able to direct my awareness into much good.
I just don’t know what to do. And I know there’s no one who can tell me with certainty what to do, either. We can just “try”.
I think I will try to sleep just now. Two hours before having to start the day again is a quickness no insomnia can lengthen.
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