Don’t really feel like writing right now.
As often is the case, I would rather still be in bed, sleeping. Having another of my sleepy days, I guess.
And when I am sleepy like this, it makes it hard to focus my mind enough to write. As I type this, I am having to keep leading my mind back to the words on the screen after they wander off like stray sheep along some long forgotten path.
And that’s, like, irritating.
Oh well. I will get through it. I always do. Writing whether I feel like it or not is one of my only stable bits of self-discipline in my life, and I treasure it.
Besides, even when I really don’t feel like writing, I know that it is something I need to do. Having this outlet for my thoughts and emotions is a key part of how I cope with life no matter how hard making the words happen gets.
And right now it’s a distinctly uphill battle.
I guess I am otherwise feeling okay right now.
Maybe my depression is just asleep. I dunno. But I feel good. I can feel a bit of sunshine in my soul and it feels good.
Thaw me out, you darling little sunbeam. Defrost this freezer burned flesh of mine so it can start to heal.
I don’t care that it will hurt. Pain is better than numbness.
If you’re in pain, you’re alive. Numbness is death.
And I want to live, god damn it. I want to feel wholesome and healthy and strong. I want to feel awake and alive and aware instead of sleepwalking through life in a fog.
Fuck this fog, Sure, it hides what I can’t handle (i.e., practically everything) from me but that only keeps me dependent on it.
I would (and will) be far better off if I threw away my shield of intellectualism and gave up on the illusion of control and just experiences life directly and openly without the safety of this tiny bunker I have dug in my soul.
Life life in realtime for once. Act based on my feelings like I did as a child. Let my heart be my guide and see the world as a place of unfolding wonder instead of the heartless gulag I see it as now.
My world would be a nice place if I didn’t hide from it all the time. If I stayed in the world and dealt with things and fixed my issues, I wouldn’t feel the need to flee it so much.
But I am not there yet. I might not get there until after my triple bypass. I still have too much pain to process. Too much of me is still dead asleep.
So when I try to turn and face things, the fear and pain overwhelms me and smothers whatever tiny flame I had managed to ignite and that feels a bit too much like dying.
Well I will die a million deaths a day in order to find my way back to the world of the living once again.
More after the break.
The Paralysis Paradox
I admit, that title is a bit cute even for me.
Anyhow, what it refers to is the devil’s bargain of depression wherein the depression takes the pain away, but extracts a very heavy price for it.
It’s all about numbness. The depression starts as a react against enormous pain. So enormous, in fact, that it could destroy one’s mind, or at least cripple it.
So it starts as the opposite reaction, countering pain with numbness. This is akin to how the body produces pain-killing endorphins in response to injury.
And that would be a perfectly sound reaction for trauma up to certain level of intensity. The kind the mind can heal from on its own. The numbness handles and manages the pain level while the mind recovers from the trauma, and goes away when the injury has finally been healed.
But some psychic injuries, like some physical injuries, are far too severe to be able to simply heal over time.
Such as, say, being raped by a stranger at the age of 4.
To pick a random example.
Thus, that numbness never goes away. And its icy grip can seem like blessed relief or soul destroying hoarfrost depending on the context.
Because the numbness is essentially paralysis. Sure, it takes the pain away but it does so by taking everything away. All feelings, good, bad, or indifferent.
And the thing is, your mind knows what feelings should be present. And it responds to a lack of certain inputs with a silent scream, whether it’s a missing limb or an inability to feel certain kinds of emotional pain.
Or pleasure, for that matter.
So the numbness hurts. You would be better off without it.
But you are also totally dependent on it.
Because you still have a massive mental wound you can’t heal. And the numbness is still the only thing keeping it from overwhelming you. And so you have to keep paying for this rather expensive treatment no matter what it is costing you.
Even if it is costing you nearly your entire life force and leaves you unable to do anything but write blog entries and play video games all day.
Again, just to take a random example.
And so the paradox reveals itself. In order to survive, someone like me has to feed most of his soul to this demon of annihilation within. The very thing that is killing you is also the thing keeping you alive.
The only solution is to heal that original trauma. No wound, no numbness. And that’s what therapy is for.
It’s also what this blog is for. I release the pain a little at a time as I put it into words, and hopefully some day I will be healthy enough to heal the rest.
I wish there was a way to hurry it along. But sick people heal really slowly.
And there is so much healing left to do,
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.