I can’t seem to shake it. Whatever ‘it’ is. This feeling that I am losing or have lost everything. I am clinging to twigs for support against this paralyzing isolation. Everything feels difficult. Everything has at least 1 fear attached to it. If there is a sign of hope, it is soon obliterated by fear and hopelessness.
I have only myself to blame. I mean it’s unfair to blame anyone else. I can’t say for sure that my friends have deserted me, just because they write or call or check up on me. They have no idea what I am going through. And the 2 friends who are present, Lynn and Carrie, only see my surface pretend act. But at least they are there for at least part of me.
It does not help that I am not reaching out to anyone as I sink deeper and deeper. It’s almost as if I have forgotten how. How not to feel like an intruder or an imposition.
Interestingly enough, oddly enough, my only distraction from sinking deeper and deeper occurs underwater. While swimming laps. I have no idea why I swim laps. Maybe it’s something to do with my body’s Declaration of Independence from my mind. My body just wants a pure experience of adrenaline and exertion. And it is usually so peaceful there, underwater, even 4 feet of water.
My body believes that if it can drag me with it, moving through water, it can take me anywhere. No matter how resistant I may be to going anywhere. My body doesn’t really care. And I can’t really argue with it. I don’t like to argue. I am not very good with conflict, especially the internal kind. My body exists in a place where the concept of isolation and all of its sub-concepts do not exist.
My body is the one who is typing these words. My mind just doesn’t have the energy for conversation. What is there to say?