Deep Rants, Soul-Searching Rants, Witty Rants

Tunnels.

I realize that a public blog isn’t meant in any way shape or form to be used as a personal diary fully equipped with dark secrets, fugitive skeletons that have somehow escaped their closets, nor any generally profound depressing bullshit. I get it. Not a single fucking person on this planet wants to read TMI shit about anyone, unless they’re obsessed with that person’s life, waiting for them to fail what are those called again? Oh yea, haters. (And why did that sound like it belonged somewhere in the theme song for The Little Mermaid?!)

People don’t read a stranger’s blog to get the scoop on their internal battles against life. People read blogs because they want to learn how to do something even though they’ll never actually do it. They want pictures of artsy food captured in the midst of Sunday afternoon lighting with a serene ocean view in the background. Seriously shut the fuck up. They want recipes they’ll never actually cook. They want positive, giddy, fake AF mommy-hood stories. They want superhero, Zeus-ish fables about people who have “survived” something, anything and how there’s this magical savior “light” at the end of some tunnel. A thing called hope, they keep saying. But is there, really? A “light at the end of the tunnel”? I mean, I suppose there can be. We’ve all been through something and then ultimately survived or saw that things got better right? It’s the circle of life. The highs and the lows; the ups and downs; the infamous merry-go-round.

But that’s the tricky thing about life. There is always another low after a high; another down after an up. There is always another. fucking. tunnel. for you to “get through” waiting for you around the next corner. It never ends. Until it actually does.

So let’s be real. The only tunnel that will ever actually end with a light is life itself. Life is the entire damn tunnel. And the light? Yea that’s death. Let’s take a second to let that sink in.

I realize that this is pretty dark. But this is just my way of crawling through one of my tunnels- gasping for air and waiting for that spec of light. Where is that fucking light?! I’ve been stuck in this tunnel for months and it just never seems to end. It’s cold. It’s dark. It’s sad. And there’s no coffee in here.

Honestly? I’m exhausted. I keep telling myself that my kids- my kids are the light and the reason and the purpose; I need to keep crawling and pushing and fighting through this tunnel for them; because of them. They need me. I need them. I can hear them just outside of this freezing cold cylinder I’m stuck inside of- their faint laughter, the adorable brief arguments, the sound of my name- mom… mommmmm…. mommy. I keep trying to respond but I’m so so tired I can barely get a whisper out. I’m letting them down. I feel like a failure. I feel like no matter how hard I push through, I just can’t get a mental break anymore. I just want to cuddle with them, and remind them a million times in a day how much I love them- and how this life meant nothing to me until they came along with their dreams and their giggles and their imaginary friends and stick figure drawings. I just want them to know- that I fought so hard for them.

I really did.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting for.

Everything is so fuzzy. Blurry. It’s like I’m constantly seeing through a stained window on a foggy morning. Everything has fused with nothing. I see the silhouettes of my children-beautiful little shadows running through my fog. But I just can’t tell what is what anymore.

I don’t know much of anything these days, but what I do know is that I don’t want to be sad anymore. I don’t want to feel pain anymore. I don’t want to use all of my energy towards trying to be something that I’m not, which is “OK”. I am not OK.

9 thoughts on “Tunnels.”

  1. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about stuff that’s been going on with work and family and illness… and how it’s actually taking a toll on me. Me… the guy who’s always laid back. The guy who is always ready to go with the flow. Stuff has been causing me to feel some real anxiety lately and that’s just not something I’m used to. In a follow up conversation, I was telling her I was okay… but that I wasn’t really okay. Things around me are not okay and I’m okay with that. Her response was that it’s okay to not be okay for a while. So I’m gonna tell you the same. It’s okay to not be okay. If you need to talk, I can offer an ear. As a mental health professional I’m fully qualified to ask questions like, “How does that make you feel?” I’m also good at saying things like, “Hmm… That’s interesting.” Seriously, though, prayers coming your way, for what it’s worth 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for this. I’m a little beyond just “not being ok” and the fact that i admit this out loud, is sort of disturbing. I know that i need to seek some help, ASAP but you know. Money. Lol 😂 ty for your support my friend. Much needed.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Ely eep! Is there any way you can get some help without piles of cash? It is really good that you can admit you’re not okay, but I guess the next step is working out what you can do/who you can see to try to work on it.

    I have no idea how things work in the US, so I am sending hugs for now.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you my dear. I’m doing some research. Other than “baker acting” myself or voluntarily checking myself into a hospital- not sure what my options are. I appreciate the love. Hugs!!!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Ely, I’m sorry to hear you’re struggling and hope you can find someone to help you through this. I commend you for sharing this on your blog because I think it’s something a lot of us can relate to but never really say out loud. You know I’m always here if you need someone to talk to or laugh with!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I don’t have anything profound to say, or any great advise that can help. But I really like your style. I’m glad you shared this with the world, and I hope you get the help you need however it may come. Hang in there. As an empty nester, it definitely gets a hell of a lot better as your kids get older…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for this. You know, there really are no words for situations like this and that is also OK…. I just needed to be heard and acknowledged, and that is enough for me. Xo

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s