How is it possible for the only thought stampeding through my mind to be, "I don't know"? 

This isn't one of those times when someone asks a question and I confidently reply, "I don't know, but I'll find the answer for you." Nor is it really a statement at all.  It seems to be as powerful as the thundering hooves storming through Pamplona, resonating within the confines of my cranium.  Not a question, not and answer.
There were no waving crimson flags, no screaming crowds, no pomp at all, in fact, that got me to this place.  Circumstance, yes.
It's as if all sources of incoming information have ceased to be.  Silence from the outside, incommunicado. 

How do you solve a problem that is inexpressible?

Getting Back to Basics

I met this girl once, a couple of years ago.  She was pretty cool.  I grew to know her very well over time and even grew to love her.  She had this really zen-like, calming quality about her, level-headed in any situation but a lot of fun, too.  She was me. 

I honestly never thought I'd be someone who could shine a mirror on the inside and out and be content, happy even, with what I saw.  I'd never experienced it before. I miss her.

Things have been growing increasingly more difficult over the past year, one curve ball after another with barely any time to breathe between swings. I felt bitterness creeping in and knew I was losing myself again.  The self-loathing started to return.

About a week ago, some decisions were made for me, decisions I thought I could never survive.  The reality of it all is that they were truly a gift.  The Universe, in her infinite wisdom, forced me to reclaim the really awesome woman that I was and will become again, regardless of my circumstances.

I now recall that I am strong enough to stand on my own and make the very difficult choices that I will be facing more and more each day with resolve and certainty that they are the right ones for me.  It's not easy, but as cliche as it is, nothing worth having is ever easy.

I hope to start writing regularly again.  I hope to smile more often and laugh out loud.  I hope to leave my house more frequently, not to go to work or the grocery store, but to get out and enjoy all of the opportunities life has to offer.  I hope to leave an indelible mark on someone, even if it just means making their days brighter. 

Most importantly,
I HOPE.

I miss the days of tripping, dipping, swaying, loving, weaving, breathing, just being,
replaced now with one dull flatline of silence.
Ever waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.
It's fallen with a harsh thud so ungracefully from the sky on so many occasions, only to be yanked up swiftly by it's everlong lace, that I rarely even startle when it hits me in the head.

I miss the colors of the waves and breezes, the taste of the sunshine that emanated from her lips, the joy of weightlessness, floating freely above the trees, just living.
And now I stand, feet mired in the pallid clay as I dissapate into the stagnant air,
molecule by molecule.
Sort of Escher-esque, in a way, I suppose,
only much less purposeful.
I wonder how long until I cease to be?
Energy can be neither created or destroyed?
I beg to differ because it's happening now.
Fuck the laws of Thermodynamics.

self indulgent bullshit, my new reality

I did it.  Last week I threw up my hands and conceded defeat, something I always vowed I'd never do. I refused to get out of bed, gave into the tears, then the anger, admitted fear and finally became numb again except for the physical discomfort I'm in.  I guess it's supposed to be some cruel reminder that I'm alive. A fact I'd rather forget some days. This has been the cycle for nearly a week now. My behavior not only disappoints me, but disproves the theory some of my friends have that I am strong. The reality is, I used to be strong, or maybe it was sheer refusal to be what I've always despised, but I'm tired.  I could always count on my mind, even after a few years ago when my physical body started to fail me and I was no longer able to push it to its outer limits, I could always stretch my brain beyond capacity. I don't think I can anymore nor am I sure I even want to. Don't misunderstand my intent. I am not selfish enough to make some ridiculous, grand sweeping gesture of finality. It never even crosses my mind, and therefore I am in a quandry. How do I continue really living each day feeling the way I do about a worsening, unfortunately this time, beyond my control situation?  I just don't know anymore. I don't think I've ever been this far in it. I'm lost.

Writing Nothing or Nothing Writing

I'm staring at the muted television, some stupid pop culture "comedy" crap. I don't understand it. Stomach growling, in knots, bile surging to my throat. The silence is my very best friend and I as always, my own worst enemy. I'm having some sort of God Damned existential crisis and it pisses me off. I want to write, write, write it all down because I was somehow born physically incapable of screaming out loud. Either that or I let someone steal my voice. Either way, I find it physically impossible to scream. Trying to write makes me even more angry, I think. I'm not sure the words are even stuck, I just think they don't really exist. What is WRONG with me? Gotta keep moving, moving, moving. Never stop and listen to yourself. That just allows for emotions, feeling all that namby pamby crap. I mock it, because I don't know how to feel it. Not really. According to my father, I'm a lot like him. Not the "excitable" type. Everything is just sort of passive, sit back and let life pass you by. Don't rock the boat. It'll all work out in the end. I blame him, you know. Crossbreed that with a the most opposite personality in the world, my mother. She's insane, but she's lucky enough that she doesn't realize it. Thoughts just come and go, emotions come and go. Doesn't matter how they affect anyone else, they're too fleeting to really matter. I blame her, too.  I thought the goal was to hope for a successful combination of the best traits for your progeny.  As hard as I've tried to quell this, I seemingly struggle with all the worst. All of this bubbling up inside of my head where the pragmatic meets the crazy, which in my defense, I have managed to pare down to "philosophical" and war entails. Not just any war, but the battle of wills inside a highly over-educated mind. The kind that picks apart every little detail until they bleed and then uses that sticky, viscous fluid to artfully paint the walls and redecorate. I'm so tired. Never stopping, up-ending, twisting, turning rails for my thoughts to zoom upon faster and faster until I pass out from the unbearable forces of nature and gravity. I'm kind of hoping spontaneous combustion is in my near future.  It seems like such a peaceful way to go.

I can't remember the last time I cried. Not really. A few tears escape here and there, but nothing to speak of.  Honestly, I hate crying, except for the few occasions that I really need to. Everyone knows its sometimes a necessity and can make you feel better. 
I don't even understand what this is about.  I'm generally a very content person, laid back and go with the flow.  I enjoy that about myself.  Lately, I've even been realizing how grateful I am for so many things in my life.  So this doesn't make sense. I can't come up with an explanation or reasonable excuse for the extreme depression I've been feeling on and off over the past 6 months.  I feel a little like a hypocrite because I've always believed that happiness is a choice.  I still believe that, but can't seem to manage it.  I feel as though I'm trying.  I make myself go out when I don't want to, I exercise and try to stay active, try to keep up with friends, but over that past couple of weeks these things are falling off.  Getting out of bed is dreaded every day.  I HATE THIS!  Anyone who knows me understands that I don't want to feel this way and that I try to do everything to fight it.  Ughhhh.... so much turning over and over in my head, I can't even make sense of it all. Hoped writing some of it down would help, but now I'm just more confused.  I just want to get back to myself, content, happy and living again....

Shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
Sitting amidst them in a dimly lit room.
I've been trying for days to figure out how they all fit together,
how I fit together.
So I gathered them up into a pile in front of me,
hoping for some small miracle.
I think a couple of matching edges may have met today.
The pieces didn't come together exactly,
but it felt like something fit,
briefly anyway.