Monday, December 30, 2013

Post Two Hundred and Nineteen: Troglodytic is an Actual Word.




Troglodytic. It means that lonely, unfriended sack of shit feeling of self-unworth, or at least the preceived state of being sat in it. I'm in it, I can't get out of it, and I suppose that's how I found that ludicrous word to begin with.

I'm feebly resisting that end of year, calendar-imposed slip into self absorption, that brooding over what is tangibly done and dusted by December's close. It's hard to buck. What sticks out most, as I fight the urge for both good and bad, is that on this last day of this year, I feel small.

I don't want to fall victim to it.

I was at the gym a couple of months ago busting my ass.  I don't consider myself particularly fit or sportsminded but I was genuinely enjoying the results of a routine workout. I was about ten minutes into my session and I noticed three gym members sitting on a weight bench in the corner, laughing at the active class. Laughing, I assumed, at me.

I went home distraught because I'd already been feeling like a stranger in other areas of my life and this sensitivity was processed in the dark, self-feeding mechanism of the depressive think tank. The more rejection I assumed, the more I would and continue to bury myself away in defense. The gym had been a way for me to connect with others and dare I say myself, in a healthy way. It was a place where physical and mental strength was fostered, and this was a motivation form that I could see benefit from.

After that evening and that particular episode my nervousness and sensitivity levels have run high. Even though I can reason with these feelings in general, a mini moment of sad can act as a trigger for all those other, big bullshit feels. I forgot a friends birthday and I wanted to disappear. I had a fight about a tomato on the bench and I wanted to disappear. No one called me, and I wanted to disappear. Someone called me, and I had nothing to say, and I wanted to disappear.

Here's to a stronger year, each little battle win or loss at a time.



5 comments:

  1. I do hope that 2014 is a year of strength and many steps foreard for you Sarah. I am working on my pitching arm to throw away the key to my truly annus horribilis 2013.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well, I reckon you're alright in my books Sarah! I hope you've been having a good holiday, lady.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You are quite small, if that is any consolation. Need not worry about feeling that I shouldn't imagine. <3.

    Rule number one, what a happy group of people. Infuriating the need to help, give advice, that people seem to feel. Why can't they just read & keep their advice to themselves? One could imagine thinking that.

    Although, if you want my advice (;P), I think ultimately any attention comes as a positive in the ultimate. Remember people always fear your rejection more than you feel theirs. & don't need anything, if at all possible. Of course, there is a gap between word and application that requires vigilance, no question.

    It is ok to feel sad as well, it pays to remember in said gap.

    I need not mention the number of birthdays I have missed - but I use my opt out pass, balanced by their permission to miss mine. Unbalanced to favour when I draw their tile in my own system. Incidentally, I have something for you.

    In the new year. Let go. & stop worrying, because it really doesn't matter. Or do - either are fine choices Xxx

    J.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Was 2013 the year for feeling this way? I don't know. I do know that a lot of people felt this way. I do know that I felt this way quite a lot towards the end of it. It was the reason I deactivated my Facebook account. With sadness and disappointment comes a reason for a change. To look at our journey and tweak it so that it continues to take us to better places. Here's to a brighter 2014.

    ReplyDelete