[Sorry this is long. For the record, I am a little scared to post this because I’ve recently felt attacked by some comments (though I know that was not the intention)… and I do NOT need anyone to kick me when I’m down. It only makes things worse even if you think you’re helping.]
• • •
My emotions used to get the best of me at night. Everything would snowball in my head. It would all feel darker, bigger, more painful than ever. I used to hurry to bed so I could sleep to stop thinking and wake to daylight… where nothing would seem as huge and overwhelming.
It’ll all feel better in the morning.
Somewhere along the way, there was a shift. A complete one-eighty.
I dread the morning.
It’s not that I’m one of those people who stumbles around like a zombie when I drag my ass out of bed. Once my eyes are open, I’m up. This isn’t about being sleepy or wanting to sleep in. It’s something else.
Everyone’s home at night. I’m sure that helps… but I’m still alone for a few hours. By the time the kids are both in bed, my husband is usually in his basement cave or has fallen asleep. I watch television (addicted to late night talk shows)… and while I do, I write or maybe work on shop designs (though lately, I lack inspiration). I go to bed around 1:30, when Seth Meyers ends. I’m not going to lie… sometimes I watch Last Call, too… which ends at 2am. And sometimes I read for a bit before sleeping.
Aside from my recent frustration with not being able to write, I’m good at night. I feel okay. I don’t (usually) fall into the deep, dark pit of despair. And when I finally do go to bed, I have no trouble sleeping. But I almost wish I did… because the longer the night goes on, the farther away morning seems.
But morning comes. Husband goes to work. Kids go to school.
That’s when it happens.
It starts on my [very short] drive home from my daughter’s school. I get that sick feeling in my stomach. I can feel the sting of tears in my eyes. They’ve usually fallen before I get back to this quiet, empty house.
I try to do something. Anything. But nothing feels right. Everything seems pointless… and really fucking boring. The worst thing I try? To go back to sleep to avoid the morning completely… which only makes me feel worse when I get up.
I have no purpose… which, in turn, makes me feel like I have no worth. And it leaves me feeling like my entire existence is pointless.
Wait, no, I take it back. I think my family is my purpose. But I need something that’s just for me, too. I don’t know what that is.
So I feel bored and empty and just… bad. I try to figure out how I’m going to get through the day, but I can’t. I’m overwhelmed. And all I can think is… it’s going to be like this again tomorrow. Even if I get through today, how will I get through tomorrow? How will I get through all of the other days? I don’t want to feel like this every day. Or ever.
It worries me even more lately because now this feeling comes even on days when I’m not alone. I had been thinking I might feel better once school let out for summer break—I wouldn’t be alone—but ‘alone‘ isn’t a prerequisite for these feelings anymore. They just come. Every morning.
By afternoon, those feelings fade somewhat. What I don’t understand is that the fading starts before I pick up the kids. So it’s not solely because my ‘purposes‘ (kids) are getting out of school. There’s something else. I don’t know what it is. But then the picking up of kids and everything after that comes into play, and before I know it, it’s the evening… the night… when things (usually) don’t seem as bad.
But morning comes again. Yeah. It comes every day. Stupid morning. And there’s the panic, the sick feeling, the guilt, the tears, the overwhelming sadness. Every day. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I wish I could explain it… but I don’t think I can make anyone really understand. I can’t describe it other than to say it’s the lowest and scariest thing I’ve ever felt.
I need something for me. But I can’t figure out what that is. And I feel guilty about it anyway. I feel like I don’t deserve to come up with ‘whatever I want‘ and pursue it…. because what I really need is not ‘whatever I want‘… it’s a job. [Although a job shouldn’t be my purpose in life… unless it’s some dream job… but I don’t even know what that would be.] Anyway, the job hunting isn’t working out, and I don’t want to discuss it because it brings me down more than almost everything else.
• • •
I usually come to the conclusion that I don’t know what to do or what I need. But I can see from writing this post that I do have some ideas (some from you—just get out of the house, volunteer, talk to random people… or professionals, etc.). If only I could figure out how to actually do those things.
However small and easy some of those things might seem to you, to me, it feels like moving mountains. So, you know, impossible. Why can’t I find motivation? Strength? Everything scares me. Nothing drives me. I think it’s because the first step is finding a purpose… and I’m stuck on that one. I think it’s why even when I come up with things to do, I feel that they’re pointless and a lot of the time, I end up not doing them.
I don’t know if I’m ever going to figure it out… but in the meantime… I fear morning. I dread it. And it’ll be here again tomorrow… too soon for me.
[By the way… it being afternoon now… and me being able to write this post—I’m doing okay. But the morning……]
©2018 what sandra thinks
what sandra thinks 