Quitting is for Quitters, of which I am not ... Am I?

Today ... I just want to quit ... everything!

In an argument yesterday, I was reminded of all my inadequacies. Who the argument was with or what it was about is unimportant and will soon be forgotten, but the feelings it conjured inside of me have carved a hole into my heart. And it wasn't the person or the subject of the fight that bore the knife. No, I personally handcrafted the notch of self-loathing.

I artistically plunged the blade into my heart and dug out old wounds then filled it in with fearful predictions of what could be if I continue down my current path of destruction.

This path was beautiful at one point. It was vast with ideas and possibilities. On each bit of foliage a drop of inspiration dangled and glistened in my line of site. The dirt trail curved and in the far distance I could see concrete. The soil and dust were temporary measures leading to a simple road paved with the asphalt of my anticipated success.

Unfortunately, I got caught up mid-way. Tree branches became obstacles and the bugs kept biting every inch of flesh. However, the once clearly marked trail had become an entanglement of vines and I could no longer see further than the ground below me. There was clearly no going back and to go forward meant finding a route of my own, but I had not tools to create one. 

This is where I find myself today. Surrounded by pesky insects trying to bite at every little piece of hope I have left. Halted by obstructions without the means to remove them. I'm left in search of some type of line which can lead me to where I need to be, yet filled with so little ambition and lacking all desire to actually find where to begin or decide which direction to set forth upon.

And thus, I want to quit. I want to sit in the dirt as my head falls into my soiled hands and cry; for I am going no where. I am not progressing, nor am I falling behind. I am stagnant and the purely sedentary movement is somehow giving me motion sickness.

All my aspirations feel like hallucinations and any confidence I once retained has been swept away by the storms of shortcomings and a tornado swirling with hindrance and restrictive, constraining barriers. I could no sooner move forward than I could falter to the beginning. So what more is there for me to do?

Sadly, if we're being honest, and/or I'm being honest with myself, my largest barricade is nothing more than ... well, me. My opponents know it, and what's worse is, so do I. 

I get in the way of my own progress.

I create fantasies in which quitting seems the only viable option and actually pushing ahead remains an improbability filled with worlds of impossibilities.

But somebody(s) once told me, Nothing is Impossible, however, I'm Possible. The real question is, how do I convince myself that these are truths? How do I alter my path of resistance into a course of resignation? How do I persuade my mind into believing that I am better than the "gluttony of choices" out there, that I am worth more and amassed in talent others cannot provide?

My thoughts tell me I'm worthless ... I'm just as good if not worse than everyone else out there. My thoughts tell me there is nothing special about what I have to offer and perhaps I'm trying too hard when there will never be an advancement in my own personal enterprise. My thoughts have me thoroughly convinced that to stop now would be an advantage and to continue pursing these dreams would only slight my assurance further.

My thoughts are assholes.

My thoughts are burdens.

But ...

My thoughts have a point.

And ...

What if they are right?

If I've had no proof on the contrary to what my thoughts have lead me to accept about my own abilities, then why should I discount their credibility?

What really holds us back from quitting?

I really want to quit.

But hell, I can't even quit smoking ...

Refusing Eye Contact

You catch a glimpse from across the room. You can tell he's looking at you out the corner of his eye. You look away.

He, however does not. He keeps his eyes firmly planted on every aspect of you. He watches the way your body moves, listens to the tone of your voice and revels in your fruitless attempts of laughter.

Soon, he will have you.

You will be him.

You will be one.

There will be no distinction between where he begins and where you end.

You're hoping for a courtship, but he thinks it's a waste of time. You want to get caught up with things and people before you get lost in him, but the time he allows is less than mediocre.

He inches closer and you can almost feel his hot melancholy breath on your neck, so you take a step away. With ever step closer you take one more step back and before you know it you're dancing in glorious circles as far from each other as he'll allow.

Your lover tries to break in, asking for just one dance, but you know it's impossible. Instead of answering you begin to run until you are as far from everyone and anything as you can be, or thought you could be.

Laughing, he arrives right beside you. "It is time," he whispers. The words are long and spoken with such finesse as if he is actually trying to comfort you. As if lying in his arms could ever be considered comforting.

You look away in disgust refusing to make even the slightest amount of eye contact. Because the truth is, you're finally being drawn in. You're finally letting go and only moments away from falling into his embrace.

You fight the urge. Plaster a smile on your face for all the unknowing passersby. They shall not see you falter. They can not witness your downfall. They may only be privy to the last ounces of hope you keep forcing to the surface of your soul.

But who are we kidding. All this effort ... it hurts. It burns. It aches and it stings, your heart slowly melting into his hands.

And alas he wins. Just as he predicted, just as you feared, he has you. All of you. He has you and has threatened to never let you go. And after all the fighting and clawing your way away just to remain alone, you no longer have any fight left.

Tired and hopeless, you crumble into his embrace and his world becomes your own.

You are officially his.

This is not a love story.

He is not a man.

He is not even a human.

He is ... and forever will be ... the relentless unforgiving ghost of depression. So easy to give into, and the hardest thing you'll ever have to fight in your life.

Keep fighting my loves. And so shall I!

Well as for right now, I'm just going to keep refusing to make eye contact ... see how long I can keep that part of the game going.

What I hear when you ask, "Can I get that for Free?"

I used to be one of those people.

One of the ones who wanted EVERYTHING for free. To save a dime was well worth my time.

And maybe it is/was. Maybe it's okay to like things cheap and free. I mean that's what the world is these days, isn't it? No one can afford shit so they beg and borrow and plead until someone gives it to them for free.

I've done it.

You've done it.

BUT ... what I didn't realize is what that one question was really saying to the person I was asking. I hadn't thought about what went into that good or service. I just didn't want to pay for it.

Now that I provide goods and services, I see it from an entirely different perspective.

What I hear when someone asks me to give them something for free is ...

"What you have done isn't worth my paying you money for. I'm not really concerned with the fact that you just spent hours/days/months/years creating it. I just want it for free or I don't want it at all."

I know that's not ACTUALLY what they are saying. More than likely they are just hard up for money and can't afford it.

Or can they?

I've been poor. And I mean dirt poor. The kind of poor where no one has a job and the house gets taken away and all that fun stuff poor.

HOWEVER

I always found money for the things I REALLY wanted.

Pack of smokes? Time to take back bottles.

Margarita? I guess I can suffer with the cheap stuff.

Gas for the car so I can go to a friend's house? I'll just bounce my account for that.

Now I am NOT by any means saying that was the right thing to do or that those things were really worth putting my ass on the line for. What I AM trying to say is that those were things I was willing to put my ass on the line for because I really wanted them.

I try to make my goods and services affordable if not dirt cheap. Some stuff I even give away for free. But there has to a point where my time has to be worth something though, right?

I mean ...

I spent 2 years writing a book ... is $3 really too much?

A photo shoot takes at the minimum 5 to 10 hours. (1 hour travel and set up, 1 to 2 hours shooting, 3 to 6 hours editing depending on the size of the shoot, 1 hour downloading, uploading, burning discs, ordering prints, etc.) Most people want theirs done for under $50. I mean when you break it down, that's like $5 an hour for my work ... and then when you take out expenses for gas and product and shipping and all that fun stuff ... it's more like $3 an hour.

Creating a logo takes between 2 to 5 hours

Websites take 15 to 20 hours

All these things take time and effort and creativity and criticism and and and

And I love them all dearly ...

But all I'm worth is $0 -$3 for an hour of my time?

Of course, being the ridiculous person that I am, I chalk it up to my quality. My shit must really suck if that's all I'm worth! Clearly my writing is rubbish, my design lacks creativity, and my photography skills are greatly lacking.

So on top of hearing that my time isn't worth it, I'm also hearing, "BECAUSE YOU SUCK!"

I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad. I'm really just venting. It's been on my mind a lot lately ... especially since I started the photography biz.

I'm not sure how to not take it personally. How do I stop myself from hearing, "YOUR SHIT SUCKS AND I'M NOT WILLING TO PAY A DIME FOR IT!" every time someone wants something for free?

Do you sell goods or services? Do you get asked to mark down your prices and/or give things away? Does it alter your self confidence? Or am I just a bigger whack job than I thought?

They Say it's the Nature of the Beast ...

I say we should take that beast's nature and cut off it's balls.

I'm trying today. I woke up this morning after who knows how many hours of sleeping all day yesterday and said, "EFF YOU BEAST!"

I want to fight this. I really do. I want to make all this anguish go away because I can feel my husband and my friends slipping through my fingers. No one wants to love someone who's cuddling with an evil beast. What's the point. The beast always wins. The beast has no consideration for what relationships go to hell. The beast is a bastard and can only be destroyed by strong strong weapons of ... well that's the point isn't it? No one has found a weapon strong enough to defeat that asshole now have they!

Still, I got up this morning. I answered my messages. Got the kids ready and to school on time. I'm still out of bed. 4 things more than what I got done yesterday. I might even finally take a shower today ... that's up in the air though. Still, I'd say it's progress.

But, unfortunately, the beast keeps calling my name and telling me to come back to bed and cuddle with it. The problem is ... I really like cuddling. And I really like my bed. The beast may be a bastard, but it's a seductive sexy little bastard who know just how to lure me in.

Sigh ...

Another day ...

Another Beast Victory ...

The Reality of a Depressed Happy Person

I did it again. I found myself in that spot where all I want to do is sleep and ignore the world. Yep, it's happened. I'm there.

Surprised? Yeah, me neither.

Except ...

This time, it's a bit different.

The majority of my depressive episodes have been situationally triggered. Something bad happens, thus I get sad. Then more bad things happen and it turns into depression. Usually the depression spirals out of control until I'm no longer functioning like a normal person and I'm forced to talk myself out of it. I must tell myself to get back on that horse cuz the situation is temporary and I am stronger than what is happening to me.

It's quite the natural process really. Or at least for me it is.

But not this time.

There is no situational trigger here.

Nothing horrible has gone wrong.

In fact, my life kinda freaking rocks!

Or at least for the most part that is.

So WHY in the freaking world to I feel hopeless?

I feel like nothing seems to be going right and it's just inevitable that even more will go wrong in the near future. All I want to do is sleep all day and ignore everyone and pretend I'm not really here.

The ironic part ...

The fact that nothing is really wrong with my life has only escalated the depression. It's made me feel guilty and worthless and ungrateful and terrible and selfish and like the world's worst mother, daughter, sister, wife, friend EVER!

I don't deserve to be sad.

I have no reason to be sad.

I should be happy.

Happy happy happy damn it!

But really, I don't have the right to be sad. My friends and family who are going through rough times both emotionally and physically, they have the right to be sad. They are not selfish for feeling hopeless. They have reason behind their depression. It's valid.

Me? I am just a selfish prick who is sad over frivolous crap that would have made me the happiest person in the world 5 years ago.

My financial woes? I can't keep money in the bank because I have poor spending habits. Woes me, right? I'm freaking stressing about not having a savings account because then I can't buy a nice house when I have friends and family members who are stressing about having a house to live in period. WTF is wrong with me?

My family employment woes? My husband get's too many job offers. It's gotten to the point where on a weekly basis we have to sit there and go over the pros and cons of each job placed in front of him and compare it to the one he has now and try to determine which will be the best for our family. Which job will have the best long term benefits? Which job will have the best pay? Which job will make both of us the most happy? WEEKLY ... and that's at the very least. Sometimes it's more than that. I have friends and family members who have been searching for a job for months/years and here I am stressed out because my husband has too many job choices. WTF?!?!

My marital woes? I actually feel bad for thinking I have/having a good marriage. Like I don't deserve the life I've built with my husband. Like I haven't worked my ass off to be here. But I see friends and family struggling just to keep their marriage together. They are fighting to keep a marriage alive while I'm sitting back trying to figure out whether or not I deserve to be so in love with my husband. WTF is that?!?!

My physical woes? I've gained like 10lbs. No longer do my size 2s fit comfortably, but now I'm forced to wear a size 4, which after at least a day will inevitably be falling off my ass anyhow since I do not have one. I look in the mirror and I want to gag at the sight of my protruding abdomen, yet it's all I can do NOT to eat the ice cream in the freezer or drink the beer in the fridge. (HA! That's a joke ... like we actually can keep beer in our fridge!) I know people who are dreaming to fit into a size 14 and I'm flipping out about wearing a size 4. And I honestly feel fat. Like disgusting fat. Like look in the mirror at the store while trying on clothes and fighting back the tears fat. WTF?!?!

I am a selfish, shallow, heartless bitch ... I have the world in my hands. Everything I've fought for I almost completely have. Things are going better than I could have ever imagined.

And I'm depressed!

However, as selfish as I feel for being depressed ... there really are actual reasons behind each stress/sadness/worry.

Financially ... I'm depressed because even after everything we've been through ... losing our jobs, our house, our credit ... after all that and being insanely broke, you'd think we had learned our lessons. You'd think we'd finally be able to manage our money. We make good money ... but we can't keep even $50 in our bank account for more than a month. We almost bounced our account this week. It took us 6 weeks to even save up $400 and now it's all gone. We make good money, we should have nice cars, a nice house ... but we are such poor spenders/savers that we will never have any of those things ... like ever.

Job Security ... Yeah ... there are tons of offers ... for him. No one will hire me. I'm all over the internet with all sorts of stories about my poor job history and gobs of depression and blah blah blah. Who wants to hire that? Even now I can't even find the energy to run my own business properly. I wouldn't hire me! And yeah ... husband seems secure now. But what happens when it's all gone? What happens when he picks the wrong deal and everything goes south. What happens when in his search for the best possible solution for our family turns into him being unemployed because we got too greedy and then we have to go back to being poor all over again? Because, unlike before, I can't save us. I can't get a job and take over and be the read winner. I'm useless. We'll have to get used to being super poor all over again. We can't even handle/manage being middle class!

Marriage wise ... I worry it will all fall apart. Look at me. I'm a mess. What if this person who has become insanely amazing realizes how amazing he is and decides he just can't handle me going into spouts where all I want to do is sleep and cry. What if he gets sick of a wife who can't keep a job or switches her career goals every two years? What if he stops wanting me? He deserves better, why should he stay for less?

Physically ... I'm not even 5ft tall. A size 2 on me is like a size 8 on a normal person. I have no hips or butt. Everything is in my waisteline. If I gain 10lbs I gain 10% of my body weight. And recently I've gained almost 20lbs. Even those 4's are getting tight. Yesterday I tried on a pair of pants that has a hole in it and haven't put on in months ... my leg fat was bursting out of the hole. Sounds dumb, I know ... but when I go to Kohl's to spend my stupid Kohl's cash and I can't even find one thing that looks decent on my body, it's depressing. When I go to try on bras and they look ridiculous cuz my gut sticks out further than my chest, it's depressing. So yeah ... I hate my weight.

And then I top it all off with hating myself.

I hate myself for feeling like such a shallow bitch. I hate myself for making all my friends feel like I'm angry with them or I don't care about them. I hate myself for disappointing my husband because my house is STILL dirty and the laundry is STILL not done and I STILL have no clue what to make for dinner. I hate myself because at this moment I'm losing clients because I STILL haven't downloaded their discs or gotten them in the mail. I hate myself because I can write up this forever long blog post but I STILL can't manage to actually speak about any of this with anyone.

I STILL can't seem to quit smoking.
I STILL can't finish my freaking book.
I STILL can't get through a day without wanting a beer because I'm so stressed.
I STILL can't get myself to not take at least one nap a day and/or go to bed super early.
I STILL can't be happy about my photography.
I STILL can't be satisfied with my book sales.
I STILL can't be anything but sad.

And I hate myself for it all.

I just want to curl up in a ball and ignore the world because no one deserves to be subjected to my idiocy or selfishness. I want to send out apology letters to everyone for sucking. I want to hide in a hole until I can make sense of all these feelings and find a way to make them disappear.

I want to be a better person.

But right now ... I can't.

I just can't do it right now ... I don't have it in me.

If you hate me after reading this ... you lose no respect from me. I'd hate me too.

If you actually pity me ... you're just as stinking crazy as I am. We should probably be friends ... but it will have to wait until I pull my head out of my ass first!

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