Walking on eggshells

(Written 3 months ago. It is true, not even I can keep up with my moods. The ebbs and flows while familiar are most times indecipherable when I’m at the opposite end of the spectrum)

I suddenly feel depressed.

Well not quite, been deflating for a while probably.

I feel sucked in, suppressed somehow. I must not have been paying attention to myself. Time for a good cry I think, a little bout of self-pity. Time for a few tears rolling down the cheeks and a quivering mouth with down turned lips. It’s times like this that I just don’t want to try. Like a cycle isn’t it? Never really any good reason though, so not much point trying to figure anything out. Just ride it out. Oh things will be right as rain tomorrow, it always is, nothing to worry about. Thing about cycles is that they never last for very long, neither the very good nor the very bad.

(Hm. But this isn’t a cycle is it?)

You know the feeling you get after you’ve tried too hard? It’s exhausting trying to keep up, and so eventually you run out of steam and then all you want to do is retreat. Retreat from participating and from caring and definitely from trying. The self-pity creeps in and you question why you’re not allowed to just be.

I’m not complaining (it is the self-pity talking) but I have to wonder if I’m not doing something wrong, that perhaps I might be going about things in the wrong way. That while I have good intentions, the execution part is not foolproof otherwise it (I) wouldn’t be breaking down once in a while. I shouldn’t ever have to feel stretched, on edge or have flashes that I’m in denial of my own needs sometimes. I hope it’s a passing phase. I hope I won’t have to walk on eggshells; forced to be careful of every phrase, expression and reaction for fear it be misconstrued. Nothing should have to be so hard.

Of course, it also stands to reason that I should just relax, which is perfectly good advice except that I’m not wired that way, I think way too much.

And well since it’s late and every sob story needs to have a happy ending, these are mine: that things will be all right tomorrow, I can almost guarantee it, and that even while wallowing knee deep in self-pity, I don’t think the world has crashed down on me and therefore damning me to be bitter for the rest of my life.