Clawing my way back

It's been a hard damn couple of weeks.

Food, let's talk about food. My family would send me soup every day, all I had to do was go down to the lobby and eat it. The eating part was the hard part. Elevators helped with the first part. See, eating and I have a long and complicated relationship. An off and off again love affair. It's not so much that I dislike it, but I can't stand what it represents. If you eat you live, and well, living is a concept I continue to toy with, unable to commit. I'm a flighty, avoidant consumer. If I put this in my body, then my body will continue to exist and I'm still not fully sold on the idea that that's a good thing.

But we're trying. Hot damn, we're trying. Plural since it's been a team effort getting me back from the absolute hellhole breakdown I've been in the last few weeks. If I could list the things I've lost I'd run out of space. So let's just keep it brief and say everything. 

Hubris now. Let's talk about hubris. Damn, I was so confident in myself that I had it all figured out. On track to be a lawyer, damn good one at that, working high level jobs, high level competence, high level output. High level functioning depressive. Sneaky fuck, that illness. It crouched down and found me when my nervous system was all on fire with excitement and threw a plastic bag over my head. Suffocated me, suffocated the life out of me.

So if I'm so non-committal to the idea of living, why try to hard to get back from the dead? Good question, no answer. Maybe I just have nothing else better to do and I'm not that skilled at murdering myself. Many attempts, zero success. I need to find a new line of work, something else to put my brain to use with. 

Fuck these weeks have been hard. I don't think I've ever felt so low. Like gum stuck to the bottom of someone's shoe and then they walked in dog shit and then they dumped me. Fuck. Everything out of control and I hate that, since the food thing is also about control let's not forget that. 

Not sure where I'm going with this. Does this count as journaling? Does this count as therapy? Supplemental to the actual therapy I'm paying so much for. 

Anyway. I'm trying. Yet to see how it turns out, but I'm trying and maybe that counts for something.