Away From Keyboard
The last straw is usually not a big one. It’s tough to predict which one will finally break the camel’s back. I know I’ve dealt with some pretty heavy shit the past couple of years, and I’ve kept going because what else do you do? It wasn’t the big burdens that took me down, the last straw was a small one in comparison.
A few months ago my family was involved in a car accident. My (new to me) car was totaled. We were lucky to walk away with what they call minor injuries. My niece suffered the worst of it with a pretty severe concussion, and the lingering issues are making her day to day life tough even now. Dealing with the insurance bullshit has added another chore to my daily list of Fucking Things To Fucking Deal With. But I’ve been dealing with them, because what else do you do?
I used the insurance payoff for my totaled car to buy the car I’ve been wanting for eons, a Volvo wagon. She’s exactly what I wanted. I felt like I’d found a bright spot in a shitty situation.
Until the transmission started to slip. Then it started to bang. And now I’m stuck with a beautiful car that has a doomed transmission.
This has been a final straw of sorts, for me. This is what finally sucked me down into the spiral of depression and its numbing apathy. I have just stopped. Stopped caring, stopped feeling, stopped participating – I haven’t cared and I haven’t wanted to. The numbness was welcome. I’m falling asleep at odd hours and I don’t feel like I ever really wake up. And I don’t even want to.
I’ve dealt with (and written about) depression before. I know the feel of the dark wet blanket settling over me. It’s not sadness, I know that feeling, too. Sadness is an emotion. Depression is a dulling of emotion, and a deep apathy. The truly depressed don’t even want to fight it; the muting of the senses feels too good.
I’m working on it, though. I do still care enough to know that my home won’t function with me sleeping on the job. I care too much about the people I love to let myself slip all the way down- even as nice as that sounds sometimes.
So, I keep going. Because what else do you do?
I don’t know when I’ll be back. I wouldn’t know how to swim to the surface if I could even find in which direction it lies. For now I’m floating near bottom, and the numbness is a relief. For now.