This malaise is wearing me down. The apathy, the drudgery, the sameness of it all.
I think I should write my blog but then those feelings work their way into my psyche and beat me down and I realise there’s no point because I have nothing to say, or nothing to say that people want to hear.
I’ve lost enthusiasm. I’ve lost the ability and poetry seems a struggle now. In fact I can’t recall the last time I poured myself into writing any.
I read stuff by others and my sense of failure just grows. So much better than anything I can write, more lucid, more fitting, more cutting, just better in every aspect. My once flourishing vocabulary now seems pitiful in comparison.
The day seems long. Just one continuous day broken by occasional episodes of disrupted sleep. Is this 2021 or 2020 part 2?. Nothing changes and the light at the end of the tunnel is hidden behind layers of gloom. The weather is miserable, constantly dreary and grey with the hills hidden in the mist and the repetitive nature of my limited exercise only adds to my misery. Familiarity is indeed breeding contempt.
Work is work. Unchanging, miserable, dreary, like the weather.
I should be happy?. Autistic happy?. Routine, no distractions, no people? But I’m not. I just yearn for brighter days and something different because although the routine and lack of distractions are lovely, this isn’t my choosing, this isn’t my set up. I’m cramped on a tiny table, missing the things I need, struggling to cope when I get calls I can’t handle, wary of another meltdown and wanting to cry,
I’m forced into it. No time to arrange…sort myself out but thrust cruelly into the situation and trying to do my best…and then feeling it’s not enough.
I’m not alone, I know that but my ADHD is rampant and my Autistic senses are in overdrive. I’m masking even though I don’t need to because I can’t get through to people and get them to see. I seem to spend my life worrying that I can’t educate others about me and that’s yet another failure on my part. It’s so tiring and confusing.
Travel, my love, is now so unlikely I feel my heart breaking. I can see no light in the tunnel nor feel the heat upon my skin. I’m beaten down by others, the anti-vaxxers, the headline quotes who never read the whole story but use the headline to make false points, the liars, the cheats and just the nasty vicious inhabitants of social media and the wider world.
The news destroys me with its unrelenting misery. It’s continual focus on death and gloom and trauma. It’s giving me ptsd just from watching the horrors unfold. I know they are there, I know they are happening but is there nothing good in this world?. Nothing good that is newsworthy? Nothing happy?.
I’m tired. I’m tired of everything. I’m tired of living. I’ve had enough.
I’m falling down.
But this time I don’t want to get up again.