(no subject)
As much as we all want to give up, cave in, and throw in the towel, there really is no other option than to eventually pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and carry on. You can crave the deep, dark, depressive hole that we all fear but have come to know comfort in, but no matter how hard you try to stay in that hole, that hole of misery, despair, and sadness, alas, there is nothing else do to but move on. It pains us to know this. We all know after a short while, a brief while, a long while, we all must eventually carry on. Theres this will to carry on, we all have it. But it toys with us, just enough, for us to notice.
Its terrifying to have to look out past the current moment that is now. Its horrifying to have to make plans for tomorrow, to think of tomorrow. But as we all sit here in our wonderful rabbit hole of self-loathing, we know, deep down inside ourselves, there is nowhere else to go but up. When one is at rock bottom, there is nowhere else to go. We fight with ourselves thinking, hoping, praying that this will be the last time.
This time, Im done. Im going to do it better next time. Im going to use my "coping skills," Im going to go to "therapy," Im going to take my "pills."
They tell you this dark rabbit hole thing wont happen to you if you use your "tools." What if all you want to do is make yourself bleed? Just a little, just enough, make that your tool. But then again, what is the "tools" arent enough? What if the fucking "tools" will never be enough!?
What happens then?
What happens then?
"Just take it easy," they say. "Calm down." And you know, I know, we know, we cant just calm down.
Yet, we carry on. No one is quite sure how this phenomenon works. We press forward, some days are good, some are horrible, but we keep going. I surely dont know why. When Im in my hole, I look up and Im in so far deep I cant even see sky. But I keep going, I carry on. And this unimaginable will to carry on makes us crazy. I wish it would just quit and let me give up, cave in, throw the towel in. It still pushes me. And I hate it sometimes. We get tired of trying to keep our chins up, our faces dry, and keep the makeup from running.
We put on acts like everything is ok, but the reality we know inside, its tearing at our souls. Our will to carry in is picking at us with its sharp teeth and nagging claws. Its as if the will to carry on is mocking us. "Na nah na nah boo boo," it taunts, "You want to give up, but Im going to torture you, and piss you off, until you cant take anymore. Then Ill leave you alone when you to get your life back and Ill disappear. Then, while left to your own devices, the rabbit hole will call out to you. You will fall. You will fall long and hard. When you hit the bottom, Ill come back and bash your fucking brains in with this "carry on" malarkey. Ill toy with you, because, my darling, you are my puppet," it will say. And we hate it for its cocky, dominating attitude. We hate it.
I try to mask my will with lithium, seroquel, MAOIs, and SSRIs, but that will, as is the rabbit hole, both are relatively persistent. I go to my therapy, I talk about whats going on. It just seems like Im in this whirlwind of the same old same.
What if this is as good as it gets?
xposted
Its terrifying to have to look out past the current moment that is now. Its horrifying to have to make plans for tomorrow, to think of tomorrow. But as we all sit here in our wonderful rabbit hole of self-loathing, we know, deep down inside ourselves, there is nowhere else to go but up. When one is at rock bottom, there is nowhere else to go. We fight with ourselves thinking, hoping, praying that this will be the last time.
This time, Im done. Im going to do it better next time. Im going to use my "coping skills," Im going to go to "therapy," Im going to take my "pills."
They tell you this dark rabbit hole thing wont happen to you if you use your "tools." What if all you want to do is make yourself bleed? Just a little, just enough, make that your tool. But then again, what is the "tools" arent enough? What if the fucking "tools" will never be enough!?
What happens then?
What happens then?
"Just take it easy," they say. "Calm down." And you know, I know, we know, we cant just calm down.
Yet, we carry on. No one is quite sure how this phenomenon works. We press forward, some days are good, some are horrible, but we keep going. I surely dont know why. When Im in my hole, I look up and Im in so far deep I cant even see sky. But I keep going, I carry on. And this unimaginable will to carry on makes us crazy. I wish it would just quit and let me give up, cave in, throw the towel in. It still pushes me. And I hate it sometimes. We get tired of trying to keep our chins up, our faces dry, and keep the makeup from running.
We put on acts like everything is ok, but the reality we know inside, its tearing at our souls. Our will to carry in is picking at us with its sharp teeth and nagging claws. Its as if the will to carry on is mocking us. "Na nah na nah boo boo," it taunts, "You want to give up, but Im going to torture you, and piss you off, until you cant take anymore. Then Ill leave you alone when you to get your life back and Ill disappear. Then, while left to your own devices, the rabbit hole will call out to you. You will fall. You will fall long and hard. When you hit the bottom, Ill come back and bash your fucking brains in with this "carry on" malarkey. Ill toy with you, because, my darling, you are my puppet," it will say. And we hate it for its cocky, dominating attitude. We hate it.
I try to mask my will with lithium, seroquel, MAOIs, and SSRIs, but that will, as is the rabbit hole, both are relatively persistent. I go to my therapy, I talk about whats going on. It just seems like Im in this whirlwind of the same old same.
What if this is as good as it gets?
xposted