Two posts in one month??

Well, I said I’d do it, and I did. Unfortunately, it’s more of the same moaning. I’m hoping that. by writing my thoughts and feelings, I can come to deal with some of my problems. If I’m totally honest, I truly don’t think it will help me, but perhaps that is entirely the wrong attitude to have going into this. I also feel kind of silly because, in many ways, I feel like I have nothing to write about, and in other ways, far more than I’m willing to share. Even as I’m writing this, I don’t know what I’m going to write next. I guess I just need to go ahead and get it all out.

It all started sometime in mid-June. The seed of the problem was a fight with my mom. I have absolutely no idea what it was about, but I seem to recall it being rather explosive, which doesn’t happen often with us. I seem to recall it making me feel useless, so I’m guessing it had something to do with the fact that I am (admittedly) overly dependent on her. At this time, I was getting ready for a farmer’s market that would have taken up every Saturday during the summer, which I needed her help for. I don’t drive, I physically can’t lift much, and frankly, I just need her moral support when selling. We have an understanding that she helps me whenever I’m showing, but I know it’s a big ask to do it every weekend, paid or not. I was being a brat, I’m sure, and under a lot of pressure to do well at this. But more on that later. She is absolutely not to blame. It was just the spark that set off a brush fire that was waiting to catch for a long time.

As I said, we don’t fight to that degree often, but it has happen before, and I always get mad and get over it. But I think that, because I was under that pressure, and because of other deeply personal revelations that happened very shortly after (which, again, I’m not prepared to talk about), I broke. Completely. Months later, I’m typing through tears just thinking about it. I still feel broken, but time has numbed me. I don’t feel any better. I just feel less.

For the first month, I never ate more than maybe 500-ish calories a day. I didn’t get out of bed. Despite constant tears, I didn’t drink any water so I didn’t have to use the toilet. I didn’t shower or brush my hair. And I didn’t go to the market, apart from one Saturday, when I didn’t make eye contact with anyone and generally looked as bad as I felt. All that preparation for nothing. And back into bed I went.

I stopped posting on social media. I stopped writing. I stopped creating. I stopped doing the one thing I loved: making gorgeous-smelling products. I still haven’t gone back.

These days, I’m still in bed most of the time, though I do occasionally venture downstairs to eat or watch a bit of TV. I even go out from time to time, though it’s usually just to the grocery store. I’m still overly dependent on my mom, but I’m finding myself less and less dependable. I feel like I want to live again, but I don’t have a reason, and that makes it hard to care.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself. It is what it is. I’ve made my life horrible with my poor decisions and I don’t feel like fixing it. I don’t think I can fix it. I don’t want to fix it. I feel like I’m punishing myself for something I can’t do anything about, a problem I don’t want to fix. I truly believe that no one can help me. No professional, no friend, no one has the solution. I don’t want help. I’d just end up smiling and nodding, advice in one ear and out the other.

I think I’m addicted to misery. It’s comforting. Familiar. Sometimes I laugh at a joke because I forget. Then I remember, and it hits me like a brick wall and I start welling up immediately. It’s exhausting. I’m so tired and in so much pain all of the time. My hips, neck, and shoulders are screaming in pain constantly. I have to massage them every few hours, all day and night.

So that’s where I am now. I’m really trying to come back to life, but it’s slow progress. I’m hoping to have the Christmas products up before mid-November on the website. We’ll see. Things might not be back to normal until the new year. Let’s just see how things go.



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