Sunday, April 11, 2010

"that was the first time I heard you calling"

I'm in our cozy Chrysler 300 waiting while Ronald teaches a class at a pool supply store. It's overcast and it smells like the rotten meal they feed cows. I'm tired and thinking about things.

I've been sort of melancholy and introspective the past few days. Listening to sad relatable music, thinking about childhood, thinking about the way I feel about myself, thinking about how much medicine changes me into something I'm not.

I feel numb, distant, and tired on so many pills. I know we are working towards getting me off the meds but that is just to get pregnant and then I will probably return to my droned robot-like existence. This makes me so sad. I think about how many days I have gone with not being myself, either being too depressed, or too numbed to give a shit. I have to choose the lesser of two evils and right now I don't know which is which.

I started taking medicine because I didn't want to live anymore, now I feel like I'm not living because I'm on so much medicine. Which is better? At least now I have a desire to live, but that could be the medicine talking. What if I'm not supposed to be here? What if I should have died a long time ago? Which thoughts are mine, which thoughts are mere chemicals? Where is my soul? What if I have somehow fucked up fate? All these questions race through my mind.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Catherine, I think you are doing well, even though these thoughts keep creeping in. You are making wonderful plans for the future and I love that!! As to your question at the end, here's my thought. If you weren't supposed to be here, you wouldn't be! If you should have died a long time ago, you would have. You are here and you are becoming ever more you and let me tell you - YOU are beautiful!! Much love and a big hug! Silke