2024.03.31
Time | Aftermornevening |
---|---|
Card | Eight of Cups (R) |
Mood | Ambivalent |
Music | "Cluster A" |
It's a beautiful day outside... I think. I suspect. Really not sure. I was supposed to get treatment for my agoraphobia this month but, right before we were due to venture outside, I had to stop therapy because of the cost. Until I get a better picture of my financial situation, I'm a sitting duck. A super depressed, highly sedentary duck. I've been so exhausted that I pulled away from everything and everyone... I hate it when I do that but, in the moment, it never feels like a choice. I just... seep into my bed and don't get up again.
At the end of January, I wrote, "another day, week, month in bed will not kill me. It's just more of the usual pain and suffering, and it will not kill me." Around that time, I remember sarcastically thinking, "so what?" So what if I'm suffering so severely that I've lost all my inertia? Who cares! It's just whatever!
But when I think about how my life is actually going this year... I lost January to compulsive video game playing; I lost February to psychosis; March to depression. What will come of April? More of the same? My life is slipping away, day by day, and I'm just barely peeking out from under my blankets, watching it go. As painfully aware as I am that I've lost my entire life to illness— never once functioning as intended, expected, or hoped— I can't seem to do anything about it. And because I've only seen glimpses of health and stability, all of which were followed by some of my worst crashes ever, it's hard to stay hopeful.
I need to make peace with my situation. This is just the way that my life is right now. I can't change the past and, considering the severity of my illnesses, I have limited control over the present. The keyword there is "limited," because there is always something I can do, plus all the good things I've already done but have failed to acknowledge. Today, for example, I took a shower and washed my hair, which is important because before that I was itchy and stinky. I made oatmeal (as usual) which was delicious and nourishing and, like all living things, I need to eat every once in a while. I got dressed. I washed a dish. I had meaningful conversations with a couple family members. I've sat at my desk long enough to write this entry.
I could list even more things, honestly... and the fact that I'm stopping short for literary quality is a beautiful thing. These are all good, healthful, helpful deeds that I've done, seen only through the narrow focus of the past five or six hours. Imagine how it'd be if I tallied up everything I've done over my whole life... I'd feel accomplished and proud, no doubt. It's because I fail to notice and celebrate these things on a daily basis that my self-image is so rotted and full of holes. Lately I've been talking to someone whom I love very much about "internalising one's achievements," which is helping me understand the depth of my belief in my own uselessness— and, more importantly, its falsity.
Even the grandest accomplishments are mundane when you see them for what they really are: large collections of small events. What goes into building a house? You dig holes, one shovelful of dirt at a time. You hammer nails, one swing at a time. Even before that, you put pencil to paper to draw up an archetectural plan, one stroke at a time. And before that, you have to think, "I'm going to build a house." That thought comes to you syllable by syllable as electricity travels from one place to another in your brain. Even this diary entry is just a collection of keystrokes.... Hell, that's what all of Vivarism is.
In the entry before this one, I was writing about the first step being the hardest. It's a small thing that only seems so large because you haven't done it. I think this entry develops that idea a bit further.... It took me a week to get from that point to this one. That's just life, isn't it? Time passes, and we change in the interim. Subtly, yes, but we change.
Hmm... yes, I feel as though something's rolled over inside me. I feel more at peace than when I began, more patient and more optimistic. I just need to wait until my insurance claim comes back— next week, probably— to decide what to do next. Until then, I'll be coasting as usual. I would like to stay out of bed and do things that are fun and fulfilling for me, including talking to my friends, but... I dunno. Right now, I don't have the conviction to say, "I'll do it!" with the sincerity I'd need to really make it happen. I'll just try not to beat myself up too much if/when I end up back in bed...
★ My Happiness ★
My favourite songs over the years. Clean water, fresh food. People who love and support me. My life— my opportunities to try again.