August 2, 2003

Progress?

To write or not to write.

I haven't felt like writing lately.
I haven't felt like doing much of anything.
Not even overeating, which is good, and I've lost about ten pounds.

Yes I'm depressed. I don't want to dwell on that or inflict that upon the world - there's enough misery out there without my adding to it.
Which is one reason I haven't written.
It's a self-perpetuating circle, I don't write so I don't work out my issues so I don't feel like writing so I don't write...

I'm not doing a lot of things I should be doing.
Like reading, listening to music, going out when I don't need to.
No movies, no fiction or drama or comedy of any kind.
News and sports is all I watch on TV and all I read about.
No art, in other words.
Nothing to evoke emotion.

This has been a natural tendency and at times a conscious choice.
I am all closed up, tighter perhaps than I've ever been.

It's a defense against pain, of course. The pain of depression and a pain that I clearly haven't dealt with properly.

I don't know HOW to deal with it.

There's nothing for me to do.

Thinking about it makes it worse.
Not thinking about it has made it worse.

Sometimes I get angry. At myself, mostly, for perceiving this as such a personal tragedy.
The fact is, I am mourning a person that I hadn't set eyes on in almost ten years.
A person whom I know very well was a liar and a cheater and a user.
He did a lot of good in the world as a doctor but did as much harm to the people close to him. I'm probably lucky that I didn't share my life with him.
And now, never will.

But I sometimes forget, he was married and had no intentions of changing that.
He used my friendship and that of other women friends to boost his ego.
I still don't know why we went along with it.

Maybe because, even after the romance was long over, he would be the one I would call at 3 AM when I was scared or upset.
And because I loved him.

But he's gone, it's all gone and I need to find a way to make peace with it.
And start making some progress with my own life.
I have ideas for the direction I want to go, but not the energy to do anything about them.
It takes ALL my energy to hold myself together emotionally.

So for the reader who not-so-kindly suggested that laziness was the reason for the scarcity of entries lately, no, far from it.
Not laziness.
Fear of letting loose even the tiniest bit, fear of opening myself up, fear of losing control.

Tonight I'm forcing myself to do it because it's time.

Sometimes - most of the time - I feel guilty because I'm not as productive as most people, not just in my journal but in every aspect of my life.
I think something is wrong with me, that I AM lazy.
Well, yes something is wrong with me.
Depression.
I'm on medication. It helps and it will help pull me out of this one.
Imposing arbitrary expectations upon myself and feeling bad for not meeting them will not help.

I will write when I am ready to write.
I will go back into the world, to pursue a job, volunteer work, and/or taking courses when I am ready to.
I will make plans to have my own place when I am ready to undertake that change.

The desire is there, for all of it. If I let go of the guilt and the schedule that I think I should be on, maybe there will be more energy left over for some progress to actually occur.



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