I Can't.

I can erase, and begin again so many times with this post, but in the end I know it doesn't really matter. I can try to craft an entry with words that captivate, and lend ease to reader's sense of imagination who happen upon my words, but that is not what this post is about. That is not the content I am able to put forth today. That is probably my least favorite form of writing. I like to write freestyle, letting the words pour out of my fingers almost as quick as I can think them. I like the freedom of the words showing up on the screen in front of me almost quicker than they can be recognized in my own head.

Truth is, right now I am not able to write any other way. My ability to speak, relate, hear, understand, and just be near people is severely compromised. It isn't purposeful hiding. I have hit a place mentally I cannot people. I can't hardly write. I can't hardly speak. I can't hardly think.

I just can't.


I am pulling in my energies trying to reserve them for my family, and essential tasks. I can only focus on so much. One more thing wrongly placed I fear may result in mental breakdown. I can feel it lurking around the corner. In my mind that looks like I am down a big long dimly lit hall, and I feel this presence around the next bend. It's ominous. It breathes, and shifts. I am frozen, and unable to move an inch closer, because I know it just might swallow me whole if I get too close, so I remain where I am resting until it goes away, or I gain the strength to conquer it. If I allow any kind of distraction in I risk losing the energy I need to fight the presence around the corner. I can't let that happen.

It almost did the day before yesterday. That was one of the worst days I have had in a really long time. I have shut down all communications, except necessary ones. I have even shut down this blog. I am not answering messages, or texts. I feel like it doesn't matter. No one cares. I know that is depression talking. I know it lies. I feeds me a steady diet of guilt. I was convinced that I made too many mistakes. My life is a mistake. I have no right to write blog entries advising anyone about anything. I have nothing useful to anyone. I am a waste, and I wish I wasn't. This is a rare state for me to be in. I am feeling better today. It feels like maybe I am on the other side of this today, even if just barely. I can still hear the dark presence breathing just a few feet away. I'm still exhausted. I am still not sure that my life hasn't been a mistake. I am still not sure that people aren't hating me, disliking me, and disregarding me behind my back. I am still certain that I don't matter much to anyone.

But, I am aware that all those self-absorbed, negative thoughts may be untrue, and that is a much better place than I was in 48 hrs ago. I am at least holding a stalemate with the darkness, as I strategize ways to maneuver away from it.

I don't know how long I may be in this place. It may be another day, or possibly week, or month? It leaves about as unpredictably as it comes. I vaguely remember other times I have felt this way years past. It's been a long time since I have been here, but knowing there is a hope for a way out is somehow reassuring.

So, if you don't see me around, or I don't answer your messages please know it's not anything to do with you. I am just at a place right now that I can't handle people. I am too sensitive. The smallest thing can send me over the edge, and I can't risk that happening right now.