Freedom to Love Me

Freedom

Freedom means many things.

I’ve been couch sitting all day today. 

I’m frozen.

I’m on the edge of literally letting my life fall apart.

I’m on the brink of discovering true freedom for the first time in my adult life. 

Everything terrifies me. 

Everything.

I turned my cell phone off to charge today, and now I’m afraid to turn it on, afraid of whatever unwelcome text might be waiting for me. 

I’m so far down the rabbit hole, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to crawl out again.

I’m an emotional mess. 

Anxiety digging into my flesh so hard.  Unable to breathe and unable to deal with it. 

I’m paralyzed, stuck, alone.

Depression is killing me.  It’s ugly and it’s dark and it’s terrifying.

My soul has woken up again.  I’ve been asleep at the wheel since I gave birth to my son seventeen years ago.  I’ve run the gamut from being happy to being truly terrified, bordering on suicidal.

The stupid thing is, I know what I need to do, I really do. 

I can list everything it would take for me to put my life back together in relatively short order.  I know what I need to do.  The problem is doing it.

Today my kids went to their father’s house.  I’m alone for the first time in two weeks, time is mine to be had.  I had ambitious plans on how I would make a good start at cleaning my house.  I focused on how good I’d feel when this was done.  It worked all day, convincing myself I’d get there, but I didn’t.  I sat on my couch, quivering.

My house right now is beyond cluttered. 

I hate it this way. 

For the last month or so, I’ve let my house go from messy to dirty.  It’s been rainy, my dogs drag in untold amounts of mud.  I’m afraid when I vacuum, I’ll find another small animal hidden amongst the tufts of dog hair already floating around. 

I sat on my couch, in pain, watching Outlander for the seventh time this month.

I don’t know how to get myself to move.   To do the work.

I used to be able to do the work easily, but this year, I’m battling for my soul.

The remainder of 2020 needs to be focused on learning how to NOT be paralyzed. 

There are things that I’ve let happen in the last few months, that I feel such guilt about, that I don’t know how to move forward from.  

I’m so depressed, I’ve stopped taking of all my medications, except for my pain meds.  Even those, I’ve barely taken when I needed them.  Lying in my bed, more nights than I want to admit, pain burning, knowing all I have to do is get up and take the two required pills.  That they will take the edge off enough that I might possibly have a chance at sleep.  I lie here and think about it for hours. 

When I can stand the pain no longer, I drag myself out of bed, fumbling to get my medications.  Why do I feel the need to punish myself like this? I could just take them before bed.

My sleep is so wonked out and backwards that not sure if I’m coming or going.

I KNOW what I need to do to help myself sleep. 

I don’t know why I can’t make myself do these things.

Night after night, I sit on the side of my bed, uncomfortable, in pain, reading a book, a magazine, a shampoo bottle, it doesn’t matter.  This is a position that is sure to keep me from accidently falling asleep. 

This goes on until I can barely sit upright. Once I lie down on the bed, I continue reading or watching TV. 

Why can’t I just turn off the light and go to sleep like a normal person? 

I’m self-sabotaging, I know it.  I just don’t know why. 

I’ve spent days, thinking, pondering, what causes me to do this to myself. 

I don’t sleep at night. 

Why? 

Why am I only able to fall asleep as the sun is coming up?

What I do know is this.  This is the very first step I have to do to begin my recovery.

The first order of business is to put my pills in pill boxes and start taking my medications again, including my anti-depressant.  I’m committing to doing this today, July 12, 2020.  This is all I’m committing to doing today.  It is enough for today.

Kat