Here I Go Again

I’m a wreck. Sad and fatigued and irritable. I mentioned last post about my reaction over spilled milk. Well now imagine my reaction to smashing a nearly full bottle of olive oil on my kitchen floor. First I just stared at it in disbelief and then I sank to the floor and hysterically cried (to be fair olive oil is expensive and a bitch to clean so I may have had the same reaction at any other time of my life). I was paralyzed by the overwhelming mess and could not process how to even begin the cleanup. Kind of like my life these days.

The body remembers. I’ve been crying for weeks, many times with no obvious triggers. Out of nowhere I just start to feel sad and start crying even when I’m not thinking about anything in particular. Even on beautiful, warm sunny days when I should feel light and free. My body has memorized the trauma. It’s etched into my cells and bones, shaping the essence of who I am. So even when I try to forget, my body won’t let me.

Every year this time I breakdown. And every year I come out of it. But before I begin to recover I sink so low that it feels like I will never be able to dig my way out of this hole. Even though I’ve been here before and intellectually know that I will ultimately be okay once again, it doesn’t feel like it. I’m currently in a place where I feel hopeless and defeated. Alone. Missing the person I used to be. I find myself retreating, pulling away, trying to hide. I don’t feel good. In fact I feel pretty fucking terrible. Broken.

I have some things approaching that I should be looking forward to, but I am finding it hard to feel excited about anything. I’m generally either apathetic or sad. It’s a pretty bleak way to be. And I’m so tired of feeling this way.