The Joys Of Sleep, The Agony of Depression

Then bed and again the luxury of dark. Still the blood and flesh of me were electric and singing quietly. But it ebbed and ebbed and dark and sleep and oblivion came and came, surging, surging, surging, surging inward, lapping and drowning with no-name, no-identity, none at all.

From the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

It should come as no big surprise to anyone that knows me well (hi you guys!), that I have struggled with my fucking stupid crap-hole of a mind since childhood. Anxiety, fear, panic, shyness, withdrawn, sensitive — these wonderful things helped to shape the obnoxious, boring bitch I am today.

Although I have said it before, it bears repeating.

Bedtime is my favorite time in the world, outside of being with my kids (even when they are being rotten), and it’s the only hobby I have maintained. Yes, it’s escapism. Way to point out the obvious, jackass. Why not go stand in front of a clock and tell those passing by what time it is instead of judging the ramblings of an anonymous internet idiot? Christ, who even does that? Get out!

Now that we are alone, let us continue.

What do I escape from, you ask? Good question! You are clearly a highly intelligent person, unlike Captain Obvious who just left. Here is a list (I like to make lists):

  • My shitty, demeaning, go-nowhere (professionally), well-paying (for a lowly admin) and mind-numbing job
  • My alcoholism (functional alcoholism, but a drunk is a drunk is a drunk)
  • The noise in my head that screams what a fuck-up I am
  • The pictures in my head that play out every mistake I have ever made, over and over
  • School (fear of failure plus fear of success equals uggggggh)
  • Fears of the future
  • Money, or lack thereof
  • Fear that I am not doing enough for my kids, that I am just fucking them up and they’d be better off without me
  • My children (after they fall asleep)

Shut up, self. You have it better than a lot of people. You have a roof over your head, wonderfully rotten boys, great friends, great family, a job, food, clothing, air, water, a garden, you make people laugh. Quit harping on the negative, get some counseling, get over it. Help others and you will feel better about yourself. So what if you weigh 148 pounds and you are barely 5’8″? You still look okay, sometimes even you think you look pretty damn good. Enjoy these years, they go by so fast and before you know it your boys will be grown and living their own lives. Get your degree, find a hobby, get help.

Happy birthday, self. You outlived Plath by two years. Way to be.

She is still more talented and attractive than you are.

She is still more talented and attractive than you are.

About me

I am great.
This entry was posted in Death, God, plath, Suicide and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s