Now What Am I to Do? - Historical

Here's another pulled from the archives...

This was from years back, Recovery of Y2k Connecting.
Sometimes connection includes losses, some great; then again, when I consider it now...

Hey Heather,
Remember me mentioning the 'VERY difficult' time?
Well this is from an important one in between then & now.

It's a bit dark: Ok though, I got through it.

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Fresh thoughts of the day in a few moments, something current, today.
It was a good day. I promise to share my take on it soon.

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Writing of past:

Now what am I to do? 

Quandary is not the proper word.  Turmoil doesn’t quite fit either, and anguish is too strong.

My life is nearly in pieces, no it IS in pieces.  Shattered all around me

“It would show that you had some pride left.”

“Fresh Out”

“I’m not the one who hates you; you’re the one who hates you”

“And I get to live with myself 24/7”

Once one’s self worth is depleted, how can it be returned?

Once you completely give up and say “Fuck it all”, how do you return from that?

I know, I’ve done it before.  You just keep moving, but if you don’t have anyone to help you with a direction, you just keep going in circles and end up sitting in the same place wishing for destruction.

Where am I now?  Sitting? Standing, walking, running?

“I’m six feet from the edge and suddenly six feet doesn’t seem so far down”

Before, once I could breathe again, work was my salvation; buried myself in it once I got off the phones and back into what I do best.  Now there is no work, no automatic motivation; things to do if you just show up on time, there is nothing, and it’s hard to keep moving.

This is one of the things that I was deeply afraid of.  I seemed to be OK when it was just me here.  No, I was ok on most all levels, because I had removed certain levels from my life, which was sure to end anyway.

Then came you, sweeping into me, making me feel again.  When did I let my guard down?

Until you, I knew I was utterly alone; then you, then I found out that I hadn’t really faced the realization of what utterly alone meant.  I had purposely killed that part of me which needs anything; supplicated it with things that couldn’t affect me, and ‘good times’.

Well, now I’m affected, and close to the point of giving up entirely; run to the woods and leave everything behind, convincing myself that there wasn’t anything there I really cared about anyway.  Ready again to die alone and hoping that it’s soon.

I cannot let you go, but I cannot have you either; maybe it is closer to anguish than I thought.