Have you ever been in a situation where you feel like everything is good? Where every word you say is golden, and all around you is well. I have. I love feeling like that. Solid. Confident. Good.
That is how I have felt lately. Great, in fact. Confident in my skin. Happy with my choices. Constant smiles and laughter. It has been amazing.
That’s why this is so difficult. Because something happened to me, and I don’t know what. All of a sudden, my choices seemed horrible. My reality grim. Even the people I trust became questionable. I, then, regress emotionally to a place of darkness and I feel like a pet who isn’t let in the house. Outwardly, I have no idea what this behavior looks like. I only have what is in my head; and what is in my head is always horrible.
On my way home the other night, I thought of a blog post. I was so excited about it, I only allowed myself to go so far with it as I wanted to be sure to remember it. It was positive, and even hopeful. I’m still going to use it, but the ending is different from what I had first imagined.
For a long time now, I have looked at life through ugly glasses. No matter how hard I tried, or what I was looking at – the glasses made everything ugly. Then, one day, I took off the glasses, and was greeted by a palette full of colors. I could create whatever I wanted to look at, and then see it however I wished. I then began painting beautiful vistas, filled with amazing people who were all capable of amazing things. And their colors matched my colors; and, often, enhanced the picture I had painted. It was a time of peace.
Then, I looked down and found my palette was only gray. The images I had painted began to melt; and when all the colors had run, the image underneath was bleak and once again ugly. Even without the glasses.
I must interject, I HATE writing like this. I hate feeling like this. But, it’s the truth. Is it self-indulgent? I honestly don’t know? Does it mean I truly only think of myself? Again, I don’t know. I want more than anything to be kind and loving. Affectionate and warm. But, it always seems to come at a price. A price I am no longer willing to pay.
My illness has brought me to the point of no longer being able to experience people in a positive way. It’s just not fun any longer. It’s always painful and sad, and only serves to leave me feeling even more confused than I already was.
“How did it come to this?”
I truly wish you well, in all you do. I intend to keep writing, but I make no promises. It’s time to focus on what I need to do to change things.
I never want to write like this again.