I don't watch the news for a reason. That's just the way I am the past two years or so. I'm content to live in my own head, for the most part. If I thought, and worried about, all the things wrong with the world (and trust me, I have, at great length, to the point of madness) I would be dead. I had to stop caring and worrying about what I cannot control. As part of getting healthy. So I remove all reminders of the horror in the world to keep myself quite functional and sane. Savy?
Yet, I feel this depression taking hold again. Wrapping it's fingers around my throat and applying just enough pressure to make me panic. But not quite enough to make me scream. Like a frog in a pot of water. Setting it to boil, the frog remains in the pot until it slowly cooks to death. But if the frog is dropped into a boiling pot, it immediately hops out to safety.
When will I hop to safety?
My brain never seems to shut off and just... rest. It's always going, going, going. One thought into the next. An endless cycle of thoughts, images, voices, ideas, and fear. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears at night. Thumping along, in the irregular way that it exists. And it IS irregular. In its rhythm and existence. I fear so much, that at times when I calculate my heart rate, I feel as though my heart will explode in my chest. I always wonder what it will feel like. It scares me, but makes me curious. A quandary. An utter paradox. That is my mind. That is my irregular heart. THAT is succinct.
I believe a lot of this has to do with the winter months, and the great amount of snow these past few weeks. And the endless cold. So cold. I feel as though I'll never be warm again. From my marrow. I can never get warm enough lately. It breaks me. Despair is common this time of year. And something I consider useless. Yet, here I am. In great despair.
Spring is coming, this I know. But how long must I wait? I think it won't be too long now.
This to shall pass.