Monday, August 6, 2012

Proceed?

I don't want to think.  I've been sick all weekend and I've been in the bed sleeping.  I haven't had a chance to rest for the past year and I need to think about what it is that I can do for myself.  I'm tired and sick.  Now.  I don't think that I will come up with a solution to this issue by today at five o'clock.  it has been an issue for too long.  Living a kamakazi life.  I go and just go and just go until I just can't go no more. It's almost like my brain locks down and refuses to think another thought. Because after a while my thought process is null and void. Slow and I can't hold a resolution to anything for long.  Changing my mind like you change position in bed to get comfortable.  And being sick, little makes you comfortable.  All you can do is sleep. 

I realized, that I burned myself out like I always do. Ignoring the fact that I have a life to live and trying to make someone else's life better.  I'm not mad just baffled.  A little delirious maybe.  Curious as to how I end up doing these things. What can I do to love myself unconditionally without putting myself on automatic pilot while running towards the abyss?  Why do I have to find myself in severe emotional and spiritual distress before I even start to ask myself these questions?

I should know that when my days and weeks and minutes begin to run all over the page, and it begins to become difficult to distinguish one from another, that I am too exhausted.  By that time I should know that it's time to rest.  But, I always convince myself that fatigue is a character flaw that I must overcome and therefore I must keep on going. 

So, I let someone talk me into going to church twice a week and going to various functions on the weekend when I have to work just like I let someone convince me to sign a paper saying that i would pay an exorbitant amount for rent and...agreed to not have any repairs done to the house that I'm renting until I finished paying for a loan that this person decided to take out that my heart starts to pound wildly in my chest when I see on the page the carelessness with which I have lived my life. Who else is crazy enough to do these things but me?

I pushed myself to take my son school shopping for his clothes.  That was an exhausting experience.  And we were both sick this weekend.  What am I doing to him?

I made a commitment to take care of two little boys last year so that they could go to school in the same neighborhood that they were in.  I thought that I was doing a good thing but found myself so exhausted by the end of the school year that I don't think I ever recovered. I've stayed on a job where I am hated by my higher ups and their main ambition in life is to make my life as miserable as possible. I haven't had a full weekend off since last summer. And I'm tired.  Very tired. So? Where do I go from here?  What do I do?  How do I proceed?  

I remember at the beginnning of the summer saying that I didn't know how to proceed. Maybe the thing is just to proceed.  Writing.  That is how I will proceed.

One thing I know that I will do is take my time.  I used to think writing was just a dream, a fantasy.  Now I know that writing is a part of who I am.  I love it even if no one reads what I write. I just love to write to spew myself on the page.  It is the most fascinating thing to me.  To see my thoughts in words. 

To proceed.

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