Not Today August... Not Today

I sit here staring a blank screen, a page filled with white as the words lie silently within me. It’s not that there is silence inside, because Lord knows it is anything but silent inside the wild mind of mine these days… but the ability to process and grasp and manage it all however is a different story.

It is August 18 and the days of this month continue to slip by. The days of this entire summer have somehow continued to just slip on by at a speed that could rival that of freight train. I’m caught in the whirlwind of emotions and activities, expectations and realities, duties and obligations.

And yet I know something is off, something isn’t right, something is keeping me from slipping through the days and nights right now with ease and laughter. The joy is tainted, the passion is poisoned, the anger is aggravated, the chaos is just covered with a blanket of irritation and agitation. I am snippy and snappy and short with those closest to me. I am exceedingly hard on myself and listening more and more to the lies of unworthiness, weakness, and discontentment. And while I try to get out there and live it up, I desperately just want to be alone.

“I’m fine…” is the blanket answer for all the questions. Only this year I seem to realize not many are asking, not many are seeming to notice, or care, or really look deep within the window of my eyes to check on the state of my soul. But, I also know that I am the one who has pushed them all away, as I avoid most social interaction at all cost right now. Peopling is just really hard for me right now.

I just want to crawl in bed and sleep. I go to bed early, exhausted. I wake up dreading to start the day, not wanting to get up, not wanting to work out, not wanting to put in the time and work I seem to need to validate my own worth. There are tears, there is an inner dialogue of negative self talk, there is a constant overwhelm of all things. When I think I just can’t take on one more thing… that "one more thing" appears. And that "one more thing" requires attention and time and thought and processing and prayer. That "one more thing" is the possible monkey wrench in my life yet once again… and I am honestly not sure I am ready to muster what it takes to continue forward, plowing onward.

And yet, we are all left with no other options, we are all left with no other choice. It’s day by day, hour by hour, step by step and forward we must go no matter how we feel or no matter how many backward steps it feels like we’re taking. We feel like we’re all alone, like we’re the only ones going through this, the only ones that could possibly be feeling all that we are feeling while feebly attempting to numb and feel nothing at all… and yet I know there an entire world of others suffering and hurting and stumbling along all around me at this very moment. We are convinced we are alone, we are the only ones, so we remain silent.

But we aren’t the only ones, we just can’t be. We aren’t alone, but perhaps we are just too afraid to share, too afraid to admit, too afraid to take on the demons of depression and risk it all because we just don’t know how to. We don’t know where to start, we don’t know what to do, and frankly we don’t have the strength and energy we know it all requires.

I’m struggling through this… and I’m struggling though that… and in all my attempted awareness and self analysis, I am finding it’s just a constant barrage of things coming at me. Some days it doesn’t phase me, some days it leaves me broken and bleeding. Some days I’m up and tearing through the day with vigor and vitality. Some days I can’t get myself out of bed and I’m in a fog, moving in slow motion.

It’s a roller coaster right now, and it’s exhausting. My sleep is filled with dreams, my awake is filled with a battle of trying to stay positive, to find my happy, to overcome my negativity, to override the whisper to just go back to bed and not care.

So I think subconsciously I am just trying to hide, from everyone and from myself. It seems to just be easier that way, in theory anyway. But I think about the last two years, and all that I have processed and worked on and battled through… and I know it’s August, and I know this is a trigger time, and I know I am not alone. So I must continue to dig deep and continue forward.  But there is this small voice inside me whispering to me how utterly ridiculous this is to still be dealing and reeling from all this all these years later.  It's at war with the other side of me patting me on the back assuring me this is all just fine... I am really just fine... and to take as long as I need.

I must fight the good fight every single morning, every single hour, every single day right now. I know in order to get past this all yet again that I must allow myself to feel and to process and to hurt and to admit to myself, and those around me, that I still hurt, I still grieve, I still carry some angry and hurt and resentment, even through deep down I do know it’s all just a part of the grand journey of my life, and ultimately it’s all meant for good. I know it, I’ve processed and worked through it before… it’s just some days and months and seasons it’s just harder to remember and harder to hold tight to reality and promise when my heart aches with a heaviness and emptiness I can’t even begin got find the words for to describe.

Oh August… every year you come and every year you seem to blanket me with your burdens and your heaviness. And every year, I open the door let you in. I hear you start knocking already in the middle of July, and I try so hard to barricade the door so not even a sliver of your light seeps in… but somehow every year you wield your way in, you seep through the tiny cracks in my soul and slowly settle in. Oh I don’t want you here right now, you are not welcome, and yet I can’t seem to get you to leave. No amount of begging and pleading and yelling and crying seems to convince you you are not wanted. I am never quite able to find the strength to give you the boot, so you continue to stay, you continue to pester and poke and drag me down.

School starts next week, and we will be back to epic morning battles, and spelling words, and reading counts, and homework, and teacher meetings. I can’t even… I just can’t. That fateful August due date is looming closer and closer, reminding me of all that was taken, all that didn’t get to be, all that was unfair and unjustified. I can’t even… I just can’t. The number of weekends left at the camper is down to single digits and we will soon have to be planning to close it up for the winter. I can’t even… I just can’t. I try continue on this attempted health journey day after day, and I feel like I’m losing the battle right now, that I’m going backwards instead of forwards in my fight of weight and nutrition and mild over miles. I have two half marathon races on my calendar over the next seven weeks. I can’t even… I just can’t.

Once upon a time I think I had the wherewithal to tackle this all with guns a blazing, but now it all just seems to render me helpless and immobile, it's chipped and eaten away at me just too many times.  The lies inside me tell me I can’t handle it all, that I don’t want to handle it all, so I’m just not going to handle any of it.

I remain silent in my lostness. I remain alone in my hurt, broken and weary state. I wake up and begin the motions of surviving another day willing myself to get through the hours needed before I can climb back in bed.

This too shall pass. I look back and it seems that it always does. August 27 shall too pass by once again, and then we will flip the calendar to September. The new routines of fall will begin to form and hopefully take hold, the leaves will start to change color, the air will get cooler, the days will continue to get shorter and shorter. The sunsets at the lake will end, the running outside will end and hopefully I will find the willpower to transition for another season back in the basement on the treadmill.

I guess I’m not totally sure what this fall is going to bring, there are chances and possibilities that my boat is going to get rocked right out of the water yet again, but I will not allow myself to think about that until I may actually need to. Because it may also be nothing, and I refuse to allow unnecessary worry to steal any more moments of my life.

So… I’m going to end this sad “feeling sorry for myself” yammering and try find the strength to turn on the lights and get myself out of bed on this sunny Saturday at the lake. I’m going to dig deep and face this day. I’m going to leave the camper and go interact, and mingle, and maybe even do a little peopling today. I can do this. I can do this.

August, you are not welcome, but I know you are here regardless of what I want. I know you’re going to continue to reside in the recesses of my heart, and mind, and soul causing me the anguish and pain I so desperately do not want to deal with right now (or ever). So I am going to call you out, I am going to holler my displeasure of your presence out loud, I am going to publicly admit and own up to my current hurt and struggle right now. I am going to give it the name that it is… this is a touch of depression, even though time and again I have fought against admitting this is actually what it is. But it is. I don’t want pity, I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me and send me all sorts of medical and psychological advice on meds and therapists. But I am simply going to give it voice and say it out loud in hopes to to weaken your control and squelch your resolve over me. May my admittance deaden the pungency you have currently spread through me.

Not today August. Not today. 
{ Previous Blog Post "Natures Day of Rest" HERE }