I like to sit back and reflect at where I am, where I have been and where I’m going. I do this often, a sort of contemplative ritual and yet I am always taken aback at what I find; how far I have come.
So why does life feel as though its always at a standstill? Stagnant…
The small victories that I learnt so diligently to praise myself for, no longer feel like achievements.
This time last year it was all about management; making it through the kids summer holidays without falling into despair. I wrote a plan of action; an itinerary of sorts to keep myself on the move… this year I did not write a plan and yet three weeks into the seven week holiday and we have already, without thinking, done more than I ever thought possible – or managed – previously. Still, it doesn’t feel like enough – there is too much empty time, too often I lay in lethargy – unable or perhaps just unwilling to move.
Where does life go from here?
Such a lot has changed over the last ten years and yet nothing has changed – it repeats, it repeats… Forever doomed to live my tortures over again.
My mind is the poison, my thoughts the disease – there is no antidote, no cure for this ailment of mine.
I feel good about my soul; the person I know I am inside – I know that person shines through for those who take the time to look hard enough but it shouldn’t be a hidden thing. Why do I continue to hide when the past is the past and can no longer hurt me. The person I am inside has no influence on this dismal ‘safe’ life I’m living… There is no me in these walls.
From suicide to catatonia. From screaming to silence. From tears to debt. From destruction to hatred. I have come so far; I have weathered so much – it cannot all be for this miserable life, there must be more.