on Depression- Day 9 after Defeat

so i’m here again. and though i missed yesterday, i made some substantial strides (i think), which i will share in summary. 

i met up with my therapist (every wednesday at 1). it was better than good. but my (thoughts?), are too tired to search for the best adjectives. my constant struggle for the perfect wording, for the ultimate phrasing that defines, details, a mili by mili rendition of the feeling, the sentiment, – what have you. 

i’m not making sense i feel, but as per my realisations yesterday, i spend a life time making sense of things. rationalising, intellectualising, formulating the problem and reaching the conclusion before i had time even to feel.  as such, i have been challenged to ask the question. “Are you happy fati?”. 

ouch. and then double ouch. at this moment, this very passing of time, making itself from future to present to past, i am not happy. i am not even humouring the idea of happiness; when really i just need to get through that past and make it to the future, and the one after it. in hopes i’ll eventually reach the hour where hopelessness starts to disintegrate, and maybe i can look forward to something other than – not pain, not loneliness, not this

he says i move too fast in my healing process, leaving no time for actual healing. i think he’s right.  (there’s thinking again). damn. habits really are hard to break. my auto defence mechanism. be strong, so that you won’t be weak. be proud, so you won’t feel shame. 

today a thought came about me. quite the revelation really. (i have thought it before, but never felt it- if that makes any sense) . it goes like this: it takes much greater strength to let ourselves feel weakness

so back to the happy question. this is no song, no clap along. – Fati stop going around it!

ppfffff- yes i am happy. in the sense of how i’ve come to know what happiness is. Sure! i have everything i need, and after that, i have everything i’ve told myself i want. an amazing family, a good job, great friends, opportunity to travel, see the world. enough paper, pen, diaries, and the like to write my poetry, to express, to exist in full form. 

so what are all these tears for? What tears Fati, for the love of God- what tears. Forced is my weakness, timed, scheduled, in closing, where no one can see it. they see only what i tell them, what i share, what i’m willing to admit to myself. – and the things you’re not willing to face? – how should i know, i haven’t faced them just yet.  i swear i’m trying. i’m swear i want to. i swear. 

ssssshhhhhhhhh…. it’s ok. don’t force it. don’t intellectualise, don’t plan, DON’T control. let it be, and the somethings that are lost will find themselves soon enough (this is the hope). G was right, sometimes we should just do nothing. don’t save, don’t salvage, don’t fix, don’t even comfort, or assure.  just let it be, let the pain run rampant. (what pain!! i am numb!!) – it will come. not on your terms, on its own terms. when you cannot face it, when you cannot stand up to it, when you cannot even say “hey, i can get through this”. it will come. 

and that will be no coincidence, 

still numb. maybe later. 

About fatimasque

living for artimaginationcuriousity
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