Sunday, July 25, 2010

slipping


I hate my life, my job, myself
but I am the eternal optimist.
I know, KNOW that somehow everything will work out
and I will lead a wonderful life
and I will be OK.

It is strange. I can be so depressed. I can feel so low. And yet always there is hope. It makes me smile to think that beneath the surface there is person in me somewhere who realises there is something wonderful out there for her. Despite hours of fighting tears today to the point that the lump in my throat was HURTING me. A hairs breadth from an explosion of emotion, held fast by the faintest hope (and that horrible lump). I know I will be OK.

And yet I take such risks. I am typing quickly because soon I know I won't be able to. Gin and maximal doses of multiple sleeping pills. I don't really even know why, saves to say I guess I just need the sleep. And to blot things out. There is hope, sure, but the more I can blot out in the meantime the better.

I feel this is making less sense. I feel my conscious state is waning.
I can't be clever. I'm impeded.

And I want to stay awake to feel the strength and the will forced out of my body and to feel myself be dragged away from all my problems by a haze to thick to fight.

There was something here I wanted to say, some insightful point. Now it's gone. It's all going. I'm losing time. I love to watch as my fingers try to make the words on my keyboard and they struggle and backtrack and try to show sense.

And somewhere in my mind an ancient library and spiral staircases and I don't know why but it is beautiful

See now, I'm going

Anise my love I miss you immensely.
Lulu, Savory, are you even still around?

I am not around

I am messy and in about 15 seconds I will be unconscious

Nothing feels quite as good as this

And yet, optimism. Someday I will find something good enough not to need to blot is out.



xx
Pasco
Ethereal

8 comments:

  1. I relate to you on so many levels! I know exactly what you mean by that hope that I am hanging onto with each minute of everyday. I tend to have this subconscious thought that if I stick it out a little longer things will get better. If I make it through this hell then a fantastic heaven awaits me.

    miss you!
    Write more, I always wonder how you are doing.

    Flushed.

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  2. Through the sleep I hope you have wonderful dreams and awake refreshed, and can walk a day without crying. I know that feeling, I wish you didn't have to feel it too. I wish I could take your hurt and swallow it with my water.

    I know Anise loves you very much, and I know that her heart goes out to you.

    Lola loves you also
    x

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  3. hope, that light at the end of the tunnel with get you through it all.

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  4. Nice post Pasco

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  5. i guess u've been mentioned before for writting so beautiful
    keep strong

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  6. oh Pasco, come back to me! this post made fear ripple through me in that crazy-fast way it has when you stagger backwards and have to hold on to something. you've said it to me so now i'll say it back: be careful dear and come back because i love you and i need you.

    i know that feeling so intensely, of needing to blot everything out, to have consciousness wrested from you even as you fight it, to feel your muscles go first and the edges of the brain and have to crawl to bed. i know it. i wish i could take your demons from you. can i hold them for a day, and leave you just with that hope you've got? i imagine it'd be brighter. maybe then you could trust it more.

    my dear my soulmate, come back, come back. there is always hope. there are always the demons but maybe the hope is stronger. you've always shown me that, you know?

    also, new bloggers- on my blogroll. they are lovely and awesome

    LOVE xx x

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  7. I love this post, I've done that many times, and written in my diary in a manner like this. Contemplative, nostalgic, searching. If it is at all possible, let the hope eclipse the overwhelming impulse to blot everything out--make every second worthwhile xx

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  8. lovely post - so honest & simple, almost as though you weren't impeded at all, your words flowed freely without interruption or censorship.

    all my love

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