I have a sense of doneness to myself I have never had before. I would like to think it is my new medicine, but maybe it’s just me. Maybe I have reached the pinnacle of a mountain where the other side is just me hitting every bump on the way down. I feel as if I have been climbing this mountain for months, and now that I am at the top I wonder why.
Why am I here?
Why am I so burnt out?
Why do I bother?
I don’t have the answer to any of these things. I have spent the last three months in therapy, enduring medication changes, trying to find purpose and resolution. I don’t think any of it is working. It is highly possible three months may be too little of time to devout to an absolute change, but shouldn’t I feel something different? Shouldn’t I feel reinvigorated to a certain degree? Instead I feel hollow, judged, and alone.
Every time I take a step in the right direction I take one in the wrong. I may get a piece accepted somewhere, YAY ME! and then boom one is rejected. Being a writer means bearing your soul for constant judgment. It requires a certain amount of hardness that maybe I don’t have anymore. Maybe my steal exterior has become rusted; maybe it never was as tough as I thought it was. Maybe just maybe I am not cut out for this work. But I love it, I love putting words to paper, I love making people laugh even if I can no longer laugh myself. I keep telling myself that my laughter will come back soon, that I just need some time. How much time I have no idea, I wish I knew. I wish I could circle a day on the calendar and know that is the day I will laugh again, because I would circle tomorrow to be that day. I need my laughter back; I need it like a junky needs a fix.
Though, for now I will just stand at the top of the mountain and take stock; recognizing my own shortcomings and trying to not dwell on them. I know that if I were to try to descend the mountain today I would fall down, scraping myself, while hitting every stick, stone, and root along the way. Instead I will descend when I am ready, and then prepare myself to ascend yet another one for life is just a mountain range, of one majestic beast after another with no end in sight. The ability to find the beauty and peace along the trail is what makes it worth trying and I will continue this journey, but right now I am so tired I need to lay down and rest, regroup and set up a base camp, because I may be here awhile.