I’m not sure how to explain the past two weeks. I feel like I am subsisting on a plane not fully connected to reality. The days are blurring together through an incoherent string of events. I can’t seem to remember when any given moment ends or begins. Everything is seemingly unconnected but as a result of a previous cause.
I resigned from my job two weeks ago, a week after returning from my meditation retreat. Honestly I know this puts me in a bad way for a little while but its in my best interest… for the long-term. But this in-between state of no routine is really strenuous. And every evening I commit to creating a routine for myself but then just… the hours slip and I have accomplished a great deal of things somehow. But… it doesn’t feel like accomplishment.
I think I should be joyous that I finally have the time to read, watch all the things on the list, visit the coffee shops… and yet, the only thing I want is to work. Work is my all-defining life purpose. There just cannot be any enjoyment when all the time is supposed to be enjoyable.
And naturally there are emotional and physical struggles permeating this weird existence of mine. I’ve managed to contract a full-time lover of sorts. Which doesn’t help either of us. But I suppose it passes the time. And it ensures that I don’t get lost in my mind during this weird transitional phase. Because I feel like given the lack of his presence I would potentially be under the influence of sleeping pills for as many hours as possible.
Despite my weightlessness and this floating feeling of ‘nothing makes sense’ I am quite grounded in my cognizance that this situation does not merit suicidal thoughts or behavior. Which is throwing me down a further rabbit hole of confusion. My instinctual behavior is suicidal, is depressed, is self-destructive. And yet I’m submitting resumes every day and maintaining some semblance of social ties (though presumably not with everyone as my ‘absence’ has been duly noted by a few friends).
And I’m trying to figure out if I’m SECRETLY unknowingly depressed or if this time I just really am not depressed?? Making hay stacks out of straw? Honestly I feel like I am gazing at the world with open eyes and blindsight. I’m fully immersed in the sea but I am oblivious to the waves. Both metaphors lead down a bad road.
I have been giving advice to my depressed friend. I’ve been shrugging off phone calls from family in which I’ve been asked if I’m honestly OK.
Honestly I don’t know. But I’ll keep going on like I’m not.
My state is just like this weather. It can’t decide between cloudy/moody/windy and hot, clear skies. It looks and feels like the temperature drops every couple of minutes and then suddenly the sun comes out to play. Then — it’s just cold again. Or is it just warm again?