Blurred Lines

It’s been….a challenge. Life. Lately. Always, really, but everything is on a much bigger court these days. It always feels like the playoffs.

And I’m pretty low right now. It’s the kind of low I haven’t had to deal with for a while. And now, it’s not so much that I’m going through my usual cycle of “I’m in the overwhelm.” It’s more like, I may drown here; somebody help. Which actually sounds a lot worse than it is. Even though it feels like that.

But I find a way to push through, and I’m fairly certain this time will be no exception, though I feel like I have to, like, protect myself from the bad juju or something. Which lets me know my mind’s fucked.

And it’s not a good mind fuck, either. Quite the opposite, I’m sad to say. And this feeling, even a little bit, like I’m helpless in the face of such powerful emotions that keep crashing over me again and again like relentless and furious waves is scary as hell, man. Everything is blurred around the edges; I can barely make out the lines — they’re there; it’s just not clear. And I hunger for clarity. And I just have to remind myself to keep breathing. Just keep breathing. There are babies that need you. There’s a you, that needs you.

Mostly though, when it’s hit me with everything it has and I manage to pull myself onto the shore (before those fucking waves invariably pull me back again for another dance) — I just feel so sad.

And it’s a pain that you feel in your mind, your heart, and your gut. And everything is blurry now — I can’t find the clarity — it’s there, I see the lines; but it’s not clear. I’m not clear. I’m a blurry mess.

And I just need to breathe.