Standing Still

I keep trying to move. Forward - looking to the future, even backward - trying to repair what has been damaged in this breakdown.  But I am paralyzed.

I have crystal clear moments of hope, optimism even, that I will enjoy my life again. I WANT to enjoy my work again. I want to throw open all of the doors, both literal and figurative, and welcome something other than numbness into my heart. I want to feel like a contributing member of society, of my own world.

And yet, I just can't seem to harness the fleeting moments of hope. It feels like I'm chasing the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. No matter how swiftly and accurately I pursue it's course, I never get there. There is no end to the chase. I fear that this hope, my rainbow, will evaporate, as rainbows do, before I get to the end, to the gold, to the goal. Contentment. Joy. PEACE.

I was recently asked by a well-meaning, although not terribly understanding, friend whether I really needed "all this medication" I'm on. She asked, "Do you think you needed it to live your life years ago? 

I answered honestly, "No." But so much has happened in these years. So much has changed and I feel absolutely beaten into submission by the experiences I've had. The result, the reward from these experiences, is crippling anxiety and paranoia. 

I compared my existence to a volunteer fire department... I can manage the three or four emergencies, fires at a time. But then I began to manage the town, the city and the county's needs. What was completely under control is now an inferno. And I am living in it.

I absolutely want to quell the flames, stop the chaos and the noise in my head and maybe not need all of these medications. But I'm not there now. The fire is raging and I am standing still in its fury.