I had a breakdown yesterday. Out of the blue. No clue. I don't even know what set it off. Maybe some texts from Aaron. A catalyst made of bytes and pixels. I was mildly aware of the embers being stoked but I felt like someone poured gasoline on the coals. I'm tired of it and I want help.
I've been dealing with it for so long on my own that I don't know where to even look. What would I say to a psychologist? Where to start? I've been analyzing myself for so long I should change my last name to Freud.
When did everything and everyone I know get so fucked up? Nothing was ever perfect, but it seemed like things could get better. Now? Who knows. Maybe it's age or apathy or my dying brain cells. I want to be happy and I want to believe in a better future.
You may not know it but I am a closet optimist. It's a carefully guarded secret. If I strain my emotions behind a sarcasm filter I'll be fine. Screw what everyone else thinks... No one seems to care much about others anyway. That reality is what gets me.
I don't think like that, but I live like that. I don't do anything. I want to help the whole world, but I feel powerless without anyone to hold my hand and pull me up. Pull me into the sun, into life, into the world...
I'm looking for some inspiration. I have a painting to finish. I want to write more. I had 4 days off and I didn't do anything with them. Not nearly what I could have done. I exercised a bit, did some laundry, washed some dishes, vacuumed. All pointless. Wastes of time and energy because I half assed it.
Here is a quote I found yesterday, from a poem called Infirmity by Theodore Roethfke:
"How body from spirit slowly does unwind
Until we are pure spirit at the end."
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