Life feels like a drag. It’s not that it’s not good. It’s amazing. It’s better than amazing. It’s awesome. And, everything else. Seriously, it is. I’m seeing things that I’ve not seen before. I’m asking for what I want – well, sometimes I am – and actually getting it. I’m able to ask for what I want, in a way that makes sense. I even emailed someone recently ‘Hi, can I ask you for advice re xyz’, and he called me and we discussed it. I was pretty clear about what was going on and why I couldn’t do anything about it. He offered to try and handle it for me and I told him I’d love him to. What’s so major about that is that I didn’t apologize for asking for help. I didn’t code my words and expect others to understand all I wasn’t saying. I just stated what I wanted. And got it. I asked people for encouragement to be able to send that email. I was scared to. I know, however much it’s just a belief, that I don’t deserve his help and that I’m driving him crazy (which I’m not). And to be in touch again when he called when I was unavailable. It’s not me. Any of it. I’m in touch more. With the world. With people. I can’t say with myself. I’m not in touch with myself. I’m not messing up. My fingertips are better than they were. Something I do unconsciously is to pick my fingertips. When I’m aware of doing it I usually stop. Since I stopped messing up I’ve been picking them more – well I know that because they’ve been sore. Now they hurt less than they did. Just, despite how amazing life is, it’s all a drag. I don’t know what I’m doing it for, or even why. I want to learn about boundaries. I want to learn what normal boundaries are. I don’t know if there’s a point to. I don’t know how to. Don’t know of a way too. In some ways I’ve more motivation than I ever did, in some ways ways less. I was supposed to have an appointment with my GP this evening. When I called the surgery they were closed (the lines are closed although it’s open late) so I’m not going to go in. I think. I think I’m not going to go in. I don’t even remember what time it was meant to be. And I just don’t care for it. As I said, life is a drag. I flip between being really on edge and really okay. Constantly. And I’m wondering if this is as good as it gets. Like, motivating myself to exercise – which I’m doing more than I was. I’ve begun – since yesterday – to track what I’m eating/drinking. I’m paying myself to brush my teeth as it’s something I’m not great at. I just bought new bedding and changed my bedding. I’m trying to sort out what’s going on with AH. It’s like, I’m doing all ‘good’ things. Just, it’s a drag. I don’t know how to put it into words differently. It’s just ‘doing’ to ‘do’. There’s no real anything there. No reason. No purpose. No meaning. And I know that there’s meaning to life, to the world. I’ve begun working through it. Paused where I’ve worked through until as I’m not ready to go further, although I actually have definitely been working it through in my mind, as I see how my relationship with the world, and the creation of it, has changed. I see the differences. So I know it’s moving. Life isn’t staying the same. Yet, it’s still just, is. Like get up, work, spend time with family, mess about online, or do something real, go to bed, sleep or don’t sleep, get up. Make changes. Which I am doing. Little ones. The little things that are the big things. And, I don’t know. I don’t know what I expect. I don’t want fireworks. I just want to enjoy living life. And then I wonder if it’s possible when I don’t know what ‘enjoy’ looks like. Not that I’m depressed. Although to be honest I wouldn’t know. I’ve just no frame of reference for any feelings. At all. Which means if you ask me when I ‘enjoyed’ something, I’m not able to answer you. AH asked me that once. I got so frustrated. Because I couldn’t answer. Not because there aren’t things that I think are fun. Boating is fun. Sitting in the sun is cool. Colouring is relaxing. Doing puzzles is focusing. Running made me smile. Do I – did I – enjoy any of it? I just don’t know. Could it be that it’s coz’ of the distance between me and the world? Some of it probably is, some of it isn’t. I’m not living with the same distance. I’m not observing the world anymore. I’m part of it. Just, a weird part of it. There’s still often a distance there. Just not the same kind of distance there was. I used to tune out constantly. I don’t remember when the last time I just switched off from life was. I’m just asking myself now if this is as good as it gets, if I’m a fool to hope for me. If I’m crazy to dream of living a life I love when I don’t know what love feels or looks like. If I’m strange to hope for loving a life I live, when I’ve never done that. It’s not that things aren’t changing, for they are, sometimes in tiny minuscule invisible steps, and sometimes it seems like the steps are so major – which they can’t be, they just weren’t observable before. Is this all there is to life?? Just living through the days, doing what you’re meant to, making changes yeah, but it’s all, a drag. I don’t even know what I want to be different….
Does it get any better than this???
I’ve been rambling. I wonder how understandable this is to others. I wonder if I am making myself understood to the world more than I used to, or if it’s just my imagination. Any and all thoughts/suggestions would be appreciated.