Owww

 

I'm trying to not give in to storytelling, cementing my narrative into something I intend to believe, or worse yet, peddle to others, as if to convince them of anything. I'm just going to say, "Owww." That's what "it" feels like, whatever "it" is. 

It feels like pain, in my forehead and face and chest. Like a scrunching of eyebrows and a contraction of chest muscles. I'm just going to experience it, not name it or pin blame on anyone. It happens. I'm not immune. I'll just let it happen. Maybe it'll go away on its own.

Hey, this is great. No more meddlesome one or two unidentified blog readers. I changed the setting to private. Now, no one is to blame but me for my being unavailable. I'm keeping Facebook alive because I use it to sell things. I am just going on a "like strike," where I refuse to like anything even if I really do like it.

This unsettled feeling, like a nausea wave that won't recede, is sinking its teeth into my psyche. I don't feel at peace within my own body. I am conscious of a shift, of cords being cut, roots that were taking hold withdrawing and dying from a toxified environment. Expansion has stopped, and a curling up of leaves, a wilting and dying process has begun. 

If my soul doesn't receive nourishment from somewhere it will become darker and darker until no light is left in it. I'm going to let that happen. I won't seek any kind of attention or support. Let's see how rotten I become.

I don't know how to describe it other than, "I feel bad." Sick, but there's no tangible sickness. Just a lack of will to live. And an empty feeling and lack of pleasure in anything. I just want to be rid of this heavy cloak of depression, but I can't shake it. No one is going to do it for me. 

So, I guess that's it. I will myself to not live. If I have to interact, I will fake it just enough that the person will not detect how bad it really is. Then I'll quietly let ties fade and break of their own natural decay. No one will notice. I'll keep my stupid words and horrible feelings to myself.