Monday, February 28, 2011

trying my best

It comes in waves; the manic productivity, the Pollyanna- nothing can break my smile and now the crushing loneliness.   I have an amazing set of friends that want to joke me out of this part of the cycle and if we catch it in the beginning it works, but not now not when I'm soo far into it that for the past week it has taken EVERYTHING in me to get up and feed my cat, get myself clean before and after the gym and concentrate on my workout  (the one productive thing that this suffocating fear, despair will let up enough for me to attempt).  They want to help but how do you tell them that being around a bunch of people that want to make it better so much it forces you to fake it just makes it worse?  No one understands this, I don't expect you to but the only thing right now that won't make me feel MORE alone is not surrounding myself with well meaning friends who have their counterparts within arms reach; it is that one man who can hold me and say I don't know if things are gonna be okay, I don't know if you'll gt back to 100% again but I will love you now and to the end no matter if this is as good as you get.  Short of that I pull myself out the only way I know how... sheer determination.

It's been a year I know the cycles, I have tried letting my friends try to help and it took all my strength not to hit the 'reset' button on this lifetime so I know that I have to let myself feel this ride most of it out so I'm actually dealing with the good and bad of this seemingly never ending experience but I also know when to grit my teeth and RIP myself out of it, painful as it always is.   But it's been a week, a week in which 3 clean loads of laundry occupy the empty 2/3 of my bed that he won't.  A week that I have panted my way through daily grueling workouts trying to punish myself more than the loneliness more than my heartache does so maybe I can feel something else at the forefront of the pack.  A week that my cat has not left my side because she knows somethings up, a week that the only time- literally the only time I can get out of bed is to punish myself at the gym then when I get home after my shower I get directly the fuck back in bed next to my clean laundry that I can't seem to muster the energy up to put away.

The funny fuckin thing... I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I don't begrudge this chapter even now while I try to find a way out of the belly of the beast, I'm just tired, so fuckin tired of every single thing being too exhausting, so draining. I know I will pull out of this, I know I have to pull myself out of it, I know that I will but this is me; right now trying my best from the belly of the beast, the pit of despair suffocating from loneliness attempting to refill my stores of energy, patience, resilience, and optimism so the cycle can start over again...