i'm naked inside my fear

December 19, 2002 | 12:50 pm
i've been so busy this week i haven't done anything. i haven't eaten, i haven't slept, i surely haven't kept up with anyone... i think i've lost about ten pounds and the people at work keep telling me i look sick.

"thanks, guys," i tell them. i don't want lunch today. they notice -- I didn't want lunch yesterday -- and someone offers to pay. it's not money, though, i've got that.

working this much i should have it. i'm working 40 hours this week for barton and 29 at the bar. don't get me wrong. i'm not going to kill myself like this all the time. just for now. just for this week - get my training in, and then i'll slow down.

maybe next week. barton will be on vacation, so i think i'll clock 32 hours. not 40 because of christmas, but probably 32. i don't think i'll be nearly as busy, though. maybe then i'll be hungry.

i wonder how much of me is still depressed and how much of me is just hopeless.

"don't drink and all of your problems will straighten out" dr. trask says. the lies. it's hard to wait for things to "straighten out" after you've been clinically depressed since age 12. it's hard to imagine a life where i wake up in the morning happy to see myself in the mirror. i want to worry about the little things; i want to worry about what to wear, what to cook for dinner. i want to be stressed about paying the phone bill or arriving to work on time.

i don't want to worry about when i'm going to have a panic attack, or if i'm going to be able to keep my lunch down, or if i can stay at work all day without bursting into tears. i don't want to worry that i'll suddenly stop breathing or everyone will turn on me or i'll make the biggest mistake at any given point in time.

i don't want to worry about who i am taking down my destructive path with me.

thar's really what it's down to right now. when you spend your life in a constant struggle between self-love and self-loathe, you change from the "it's all about me" attitude completly. i no longer have the fear of being hurt, i fear hurting others. the way i see it, things are so low they couldn't possibly get much worse, and no pain i might endure would be more overwhelming than the other things i've made it through. i realize not everyone is like me in this way, so as much as i hurt people i constantly try to sheild them from pain. whatever it takes -- i'm destructive and i know it. just don't let me hurt you.

so i put this sheild up so long ago and i'm just now starting to see that it's not so much for me but for others who come into close contact with me. those who i let in are blackened, those who touch me are damaged. i couldn't tell you why, but i can tell you it's inevitable.

so, i'm not drinking. i'm not eating therefore i'm not purging, i'm not sleeping therefore i'm not having bad dreams, and all is well.

so why do i feel as if i am about to break into a million pieces?

before | after