Renee Sendelbach A few years ago, it would have seemed to me that I would be
ecstatic to be where I am now – alive and
well, it would seem to me that I should
be able to go from doom and gloom to delight and praise at the flip of a
switch. Some secret internal switch that
I should be able to switch back and forth with ease, or at least switch back
and forth a few days after good news.
I am not sure my switch works anymore. I am pretty sure my
switch has become numb to these emotions.
I seem to stay either in the middle of the road of emotions
leaning more to I don’t care.
It isn’t that I don’t care how I am feeling because believe
me I do, but it is becoming increasingly harder to get too vested and
comfy/cozy at any certain point of how I feel because once I seem to be
comfortable at any one point (either good or bad) the rug is yanked out from under me once again
and I tumble to the ground, along with all the other things that are leaned up
against me.
It is getting harder and harder to get back up, dust myself
off and take a step forward.
It is great when I feel good, but I seem to have put a fence
around me that I can’t climb over to the other side where feeling great is…even
to where feeling good is.
I can see the fence and over the fence, but I can’t touch it
much less grab ahold of it and climb it to the other side. I feel like my true
peace of mind is on that other side.
That true piece of heart & mind I long to have again. True
peace of heart & mind that I used to have. True peace of heart & mind that used to
shine though me even when all I could see was miles and miles of shit ahead of
me.
I used to trust it would all truly go back to “normal.”
I still trust it will, but I am learning it never goes back
as quick as I pray for it to or to exactly where it was before.
My “normal” changes every day. I never know what I am going
to wake up and feel like, I never know if I am going to have another seizure
(or whatever you want to call them) that seems to throw my whole world out of
control for weeks to months on end. The
harder I try to hang on to control the faster I seem to spin…spin down.
I feel like with all
this spinning, so many pieces of me are scattered all over the place. I used to
be able to see where the pieces landed sweep them all back up in a pile and
somewhat put them – me back together. But
now, I seem to have lost sight of so
many of the pieces I don’t even know where to begin looking to start the
sweeping up process yet again.
I am not sure where the roads leads from here.
