A Desperate Attempt at Being Human

Anne here -


I contemplated doing a blog post this week. I know the last few have been about my book launch for The Strange Disappearance of Calla Rivers (available now, on Amazon link on various pages on my website) Did you enjoy that plug? No? Too bad, I need to spread the word.


Anyway, as I was saying, I contemplated making a post this week or not. I didn't really have anything important to talk about but then I realized, maybe that's the best time to do a post. It isn't like my other posts were all that important. Aside from the publication ones. Maybe people need to read nonsense, take their mind off normal sane things. If that's the case, then sit down, you might like this.


It's been hard to be a person lately. Not only did I lose one of my dogs to the reaper just before Halloween, but my mind hasn't been able to settle and think right for the last few weeks. I feel as if I'm on auto pilot, and it's got a bug in its system. Aside from the fact that I feel like a constant failure, just different flavors of the same mood everyday, but I feel like my life is only a few hairs away from crumbling around me.


But I still have to act like a normal human, right?


Boring if you ask me. Let's let people go feral without judgement, because I could use a good scream in the woods followed by a furious run through the trees ending with a nice cold lake - all without judgement. But no. The only thing close to that would be hiking and that's just not going to happen. I don't have the lung capacity and I know I'll fall down a hill or something and break every bone in my body.


Anyway, the last few weeks I feel like I've been faking it. Dealing with Oliver's death coming on so suddenly, not feeling like I was sad enough about it when I now that's ridiculous to think. I loved him, he was a very good dog. Very sweet and loving and all I feel is guilt that we couldn't do something more for him. That there should have been more signs that he was sick, he was only 5 years old. It brought up a lot of feelings of when my first dog passed when I was fifteen. She was 3 and just died one day. It was so sudden that I was angry for a while after. I closed myself off and told myself that I didn't deserve to feel the pain of her death if I didn't help her live, if I didn't do anything to save her. But what could a teenager do? Especially when there were no signs that she was sick.


I tell myself this, even now, but it doesn't help anything. Still, I put on my mask and I try to act like a normal human being, attempting to keep at their normal human life. Most days I just feel like an alien, waiting to take off their human suit and reveal the real being underneath, but I don't really know who or what that looks like.


I try to channel it into my writing. Using the vast space in my brain not occupied by being a normal person to do some good writing but all I come up with is stale air better left in the attic. October in general was a wild ride for me, and I know this mood has a lot to do with that. Not only did my husband - and 50 other employees - lose their job the first week of October, but he nearly got heat exhaustion at six flags when we took our niece to the park. Another piece of guilt I haven't been able to shake. Having her fun cut short because I made stupid decisions that day that led to his exhaustion and how close it could have come to her being the one that got hurt. Rick getting hurt wasn't any better, but the guilt feels the same.


I want so badly not to be stuck in my head, but days, weeks, months like this have me captured in the cloud that follows me. I tell myself that I don't need help, but I can see myself falling and crying out for it, but my mouth won't move. I know I should get evaluated for various things and try to get things sorted before darker days hit me, but I always freeze when I think about making that call. Memories of my mother going through a lot of shit just to be put on new medication that only made her sleep and eat. What sort of life is that?


Fears aside, this post got away from me. I think it was about masking and learning how to cope with guilt, but you be the judge. I'll table this post for now, maybe I'll have some actual writing stuff to talk about next week. Any ideas? Want to talk about editing, publishing, writing themes? Let me know.



 

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