Holding It Together

I’m trying to hold it together…

I’m used to episodes that are triggered by situations.¹By this I mean there is a biochemical, physiological aspect to my illness, but there is also a contextual aspect, in which certain occurrences (life stressors) can overload me and throw the entire biochemical, physiological balance out of whack. But usually these episodes last for a few days and then I regain my balance. It is hell to go through, but there is light at the end of the tunnel.

This episode is different. It is ongoing, the resolution is uncertain, the timeline is unclear and prolonged. I regained my balance after the initial shock, but now…well, now the additional, ongoing shocks throw me back on my butt again. I had maybe three good days after several weeks of bad days, then this micro shock hit and knocked me flat again.

I’ve been trying to recover for the last two days, no luck thus far. I can feel the pain in my chest. It physically aches. The pain in my legs radiates in waves, strengthening and weakening in pulses. I feel lethargic continuously, yet sleep avoids me during the nights and comes only in fleeting moments in the daylight.

There aren’t enough movies, music, or TV to keep me sedated…I experience brief reprieves, but then they are ended, responsibilities arise and the hours pace on as if they had been possessed by a sloth.

Inside my brain there is a dullness. An inability to think, to concentrate…at the same time there are a billion flies buzzing around, making horrific noise. Thinking everything and nothing.

I want to interact with others, but I don’t want to. I want something to move me outside of myself, but when I am outside the strain is great and I desire only to retreat within.

I reach out to God, but the heavens are silent. I pray, but the words drop out of my mouth and flop limply upon the floor.

The pain kills me. Yet I know that my pain is nothing compared to that experienced by others. The thought makes me sick. I think of those who are struggling with depression – but to the point of paralysis. I think of the children sold into the unfathomable darkness of sexual slavery. I feel like I’m going to puke. I can’t handle my own suffering – the thought of others suffering in such infinitely greater ways – God!

Life demands that I keep on going. Things must be done. Responsibilities must be fulfilled. Work awaits me.

I never know how I make it through. I can’t read my own vitals. What is my emotional state? Can I push harder?

I don’t understand what is ‘normal’ in these situations. Sometimes the tears come and I will sob, but most of the time there are no tears.

I feel like my emotions are subsumed and manifest themselves disconnected from the events that drive me here. I am not subsuming. They simply are.

I can feel my eyes closing. Perhaps finally I will get some rest. Perhaps I can sleep for a few hours before the sun arises and calls forth my every ounce of strength and I stumble through another day.