I got some bad news last week. The sort of thing that shuts you up and makes you stop.
It drained me. Hope gone.
I’ve hid from dealing with it. Food, the kids. Stuff. Just stuff.
I didn’t feel like going on. I’ve pretended I can. I’ve fooled myself to get onto tomorrow.
I certainly knew I was existing. Had been for a long time. Occasionally I saw something to keep me going.
Now, much of all that was my mood talking for me and I diagnose my depression daily and although I don’t keep an exact scorecard, that’s about as far as I’ve been down in six months.
I know the things that I’ve placed in ‘boxes’ and that I’m not dealing with. I know the likely things I must do. Some of that is change, some of that isn’t.
Right now I just really need my frontage, my autistic mask and to not show anything, to anyone.
I know what’s inside, what’s eating me and what’s gonna happen, I don’t seek confrontation, I don’t seek issues and problems and drama.
I don’t want any drama, so I still float along.
I’m still not in charge of my destiny and I’m still not able to pick up the reigns and take control.
Now, possibly I’m exerting control by not trying to control situations that I can’t control. Sounds dumb, but at times it’s all I got.
So, again, no specifics, but another thing that didn’t help my situation, I may need to reach out again and try a different approach to that issue and see if there’s an answer.
I’m worried. I see the mirror. I’m not liking my reflection and I’m looking old. I’m tired. My movement isn’t good and I’m feeling each day. I’m doing early bedtimes. I’m doing enough of a day.
I know there’s more than that. There’s more than existing.
But when you slide, you slide. Stopping sliding is one thing, going back up another still.
It’s not a big impossibly to ‘recover’, but a long period down and a long period where you’re masking isn’t good.