Dwelling In The Past

I seem to be stuck, for the last few weeks this sadness that has enveloped  me refuses to shake itself free, clinging like a wet blanket.

I try to face each day with new eyes, and appreciate what is in the present, but my thoughts turn inwards, and the internal dialogue becomes quite negative, not the searing kind, nonetheless, I feel my strength ebbing away.

The tears threaten daily over the smallest things which frustrate and infuriate me at the same time, I don’t know if it’s the end of summer and the unknown that the winter holds for my living situation, or if I’ve again just reached breaking point and yet again hibernate in my mind, it appears either way I have no choice to what happens and I’m too tired to go with the flow.

I find that I’m thinking about the past a great deal, back to who I used to be which was a high functioning individual, but even that seems shallow to my ears as that person lost confidence in herself and ended up in the mess she’s in now, you see in my thoughts I think of myself in the third person.

I think back to my home, and all the memories contained within, a time when I had a good career, and enough money to do what I wanted, I travelled, I socialised, I had a wide circle of friends, had boyfriends I went to the movies,museums,galleries, I had interests, where did it all go, how can you lose a life so completely without being dead.

In the past I was alive in the present I’m barely here, the future well that’s some utopic dream for others, I can’t see myself having a place there, as that would mean that I would have to be visible, in the sense that I’d want to be there, I just can’t see it.

I think I’m looking into an imaginary crystal ball to see the future, which of course I can’t, I need to make that happen, I no longer have the tools or even the ambition to try, which a pretty sad commentary on a life not wanting to be in the present, which lives in the past and is afraid of the future, confused much!

I need help and don’t know where to turn, I see the doctor tomorrow(thought it was yesterday) I don’t even know what to tell them, I just hope, they can help my mental state and get me back on an even keel, I hate living this half-life, I hate not being able to cope, I hate that I have depression,and I hate being homeless, I just want to be who I was, but I think she’s gone for ever.

 

Every night and every morn,

Some to misery are born,

Every morn and every night,

Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to endless night.

William Blake