Being a spectator to my own life

Lately I have found myself in a pretty uncomfortable place.

I have become a spectator to my own life.It is taking every ounce of my energy to even participate enough to qualify as “just getting by”.

And, to be completely honest, I just do not care.

I know that I should be doing (insert various assortment of life necessities here), but I just do not want to. And so I don’t.

I’ll be honest; it took me about four days to work up the energy to wash my hair. I have been wearing less than clean clothes because I don’t want to do laundry. I have eaten fast food more often than not because the idea of preparing a meal is just too much.

And I hold a deep judgment against myself for not doing what I am “supposed to” (who decides what we are supposed to do, anyway?). I quite honestly have a profound hatred for myself when I get “stuck” in this place.

The following words come to mind: lazy, slacker, worthless, stupid, fat, dumb, waste of space.

And that’s me being polite.

That is also part of what keeps me in this place. Judgment. Pain. Drastically low self-worth.

But if I try to pull myself out of it and I fail, then what? Then I am proving all of those judgments true. Then I am confirming that I am a lazy, slacking, worthless, stupid, fat and dumb waste of space.

And nobody wants to feel that way about themselves, but they especially don’t want to be proven correct.

And so I sit. And I do not do. I try to absorb myself into the couch. I go to bed as soon as can be deemed “reasonable” without being “pathetic”. I pretend to read, but I am just staring at the same page for hours. I pretend to watch television, but I am drifting in and out of dreamland. I pretend to have meaningful, interactive conversations with others. But they can always tell that something is off.

I am not me.

I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what has consumed me. But I have willingly succumbed to it.

I am drifting. I am slugging through deep and cold mud. I am sluggishly scooting forward. And sideways. And backwards.

I am existing.

But barely.

And I hope to come back to life soon. 

3 thoughts on “Being a spectator to my own life

  1. I’m not a doctor, but I have to say you sound clinically depressed. It doesn’t matter if it’s situational, it deserves attention and help. Please see your doctor and see if therapy and/or medication might be beneficial to you; you may only need it temporarily until you feel better. Take care of yourself, sweetie. You don’t have to go through this alone. Hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I have been active in therapy since January, so I am being treated – thankfully. I prefer not to go the medicinal route if possible as the side effects seem to outweigh the benefits. 💜

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow! Yet you care enough to write and wonder who you are… I think you do more than most; this is not a competition or comparison. You have only started examining the new person born out of your disaster so recently.

    You are your own harshest critic. I think you are spectacular. Write on and sleep to your own needs.


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