The other night as I was drifting off to sleep I found myself wondering if I would still be alive to see the leaves this fall.
I wasn't feeling particularly depressed or despondent in that moment. And though I am prone to melodramatic and vainglorious thoughts, this was not one of those either. It was just a pure and simple curiosity.
I honestly wondered if I would still be alive three months from now. And I honestly could not answer that question.
My friend Kira wrote to check in on me this morning. It was kind of a jarring question. I am not really sure when the last time was that someone actually asked me how I am. It has to have at least been a month. Maybe more.
So I was taken aback. Not only because this is the first time in awhile that I have had to articulate a response to how I am doing, but because I didn't really know.
I haven't really been checking in with myself lately. In fact, I have been doing the opposite; I have gone out of my way to make sure I never have the opportunity to be mindful or introspective. It hasn't really been a conscious action (because that would require an awareness that I am not permitting myself), it's been reflexive. Automatic.
So when Kira asked me this morning, my first response was "fine, probably."
But then I thought, well that's not entirely true.
I have been incredibly sick the last, I don't even know, two weeks? Three weeks? It's been a while. I am pretty sure it was a sinus infection. But I don't have insurance and barely have enough money for food right now, so there was no way that I could afford to go see a doctor and get a prescription of antibiotics. So I just suffered through it. I didn't take off any work either. I would go in, feeling like death, work 8 or 9 hours, and then go home and go directly to bed.
I haven't really spoken to anyone during that time. In part, because my phone is turned off (I wisely decided to spend my last hundred dollars on food for myself these last few weeks). But I doubt I would really talk to anyone anyway.
Work, then sleep, then work.
So okay, I have been sick. But mentally, I am fine.
But am I?
That's when I realized that I haven't at all been paying attention to my mental state. I definitely haven't felt sad or depressed or angry or any other negative thing.
But I really haven't anything else at all either.
I told Kira I might be disassociating because I would likely not be able to psychologically handle my situational location.
It's hard to think about student loans and medical debt and the fact that you aren't driving legally because you can afford neither insurance or the registration on your car when you are honestly just surprised and grateful that you can still afford to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
And there is the fact, unspoken or acknowledged by me until now, that I have a literal panic attack every time I try to apply for a job. I get ready to start writing a cover letter and my heart starts racing, my palms become sweaty, I become dizzy and lightheaded, and then I decide that I just need to lay down for a second.
I have been blaming that on the sickness, but it's clearly something more than that.
Even now I feel the terror building up inside me, so I will refrain from exploring just what it is about trying to find sustainable income that seems so impossible right now.
But I do feel like it will take a miracle to get back to even just treading water. I am surprised and delighted every month to find that I can pay the rent. I have no idea how I will do it this coming month.
I am constantly in the precarious situation where any kind of surprise tragedy or financial mishap will place me firmly back on the streets with nowhere to go.
And this is all not to mention my isolation and loneliness and physical health. I have symptoms that are new and seem unrelated to my autoimmune disease. They could be a sign of something serious. I can't imagine a time in the future when I will ever be able to find out.
So I am feeling numb. Maybe it is because everything would be overwhelming if I wasn't. But maybe it's because none of this is new. This is just how life has been for me for years and years.
Poor, sick, alone, depressed.
Maybe I am just now at the point where it feels naive and foolish to expect for anything to ever be another way.
I feel like we become angry or sad at life because we expect things to be better than they are.
I am not feeling angry or sad (or anything else) because I have no reason to expect anything to be different than this.
Life has its joys and minor victories.
I can sometimes have several weeks in a row where I can afford to eat something actually nutritious and there are people around that love me and things all seem to be falling into place. But it always just comes back to this place where it is an intense struggle and effort just to stay alive. Where even the most basic of the hierarchy of needs seem uncertain and luxurious.
And having hope that the good times will come back or somehow last longer when they are here just seems to be the source of a needless amount of suffering. Why have hope for that? Why have any expectation or desire for anything?
The first year of my chronic pain was spent with a lot of tears and anger and frustration. I was in pain and constant discomfort. It sucked. It was shitty and unfair.
But eventually, I just learned to accept it as the new normal. It still sucks, but it just is how it is.
I think that's how I am feeling about life now.
I am poor and alone and mentally unstable. Seemingly powerless to overcome my brain in the ways needed to improve my situation. Maybe that will change someday. Maybe I will feel foolish for having written all this.
But right now, this is just how it is.
I told Kira that I have no hope for the future, I can only hope that eventually I will just cease to exist.
And again, that does not feel like a sad or self-pitying thought. It doesn't really even feel suicidal.
It honestly feels hopeful.
And until that moment comes, I will do my best to be grateful for what I do have and do my best to alleviate the suffering in others and just be kind and gracious and loving.
But life so far has been one hell of a long day. I am looking forward to when I finally get to rest.
2:15 p.m. - 2017-07-24
Recent entries:
Is there a difference between giving up and surrender? - 2017-08-25
To the Mountains! - 2017-08-21
At the Bottom of the Sea - 2017-08-10
Hey, thanks everyone - 2017-07-28
Even at Rock Bottom, One Can Still See the Stars - 2017-07-26
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