Sometimes, I feel very stuck. I know that it will take all of my effort, to get moving.
I’ve felt this way over the past few days.
Listless, and despairing. Drawn inward, and down to the ground.
It’s often been a challenge for me to get out of myself. To rise to an occasion, whether it be a birthday party, or just a trip to the grocery store.
I’ve never had tons of friends. I’ve frequently felt that I was born on the wrong planet. I’ve wondered at where I will find the deepest meaning in my life.
I’m not condemning myself here. Just making an attempt to shed light on a difficult issue.
Being as sensitive as I am, I pick up on so much around me. I tend to take things extremely personally. I’ve been this way since birth. It can be tough to cope with.
There is so much unkindness in the public realm. Such a sense of hurriedness, and impatience. And a frequent lack of respect for the people we encounter on the street, or in a store, or in a local restaurant.
Part of me wants to hole up in my apartment, and never leave. I can easily understand why people become house-bound.
I know that won’t make me happy, though. I like myself, but not enough to spend every moment of the rest of my life hanging out with me. And no one else.
Living with a physically draining chronic illness doesn’t help me to feel driven, and motivated. Living with chronic depression doesn’t do so, either.
Part of what is so dreadful about being severely depressed, is that it takes everything you’ve got, just to do simple things. Like doing the laundry. Or cleaning up the kitchen. Even things that are meant to be fun, lose their flair, when depression is hanging about.
It is at times like these, where I feel least like going out and being with people, that I must. I know this well.
It doesn’t make it any easier.