Grocery shopping is something I’ve always hated, but today was odd. There’s been this “distant” feeling lately when I’ve felt myself approaching the edge, this feeling almost like I’m leaving my body to handle whatever is about to happen and just watching it, as if it’s happening to someone else. The entire grocery trip was like that. Watching a grown man poke around from aisle to aisle as he occasionally wept while picking something up to look at it. I don’t know how healthy that is… but it seems like an avoidance mechanism. I’ll have to ask about it in my next session.
Another feeling I’ve been having is sort of like I’m already dead, and just don’t know it. I’m going through the motions of everyday life, but not really feeling them. I don’t notice details or people around me like I normally do, I just focus on whatever my task is until it’s done, then focus on the next task. It’s like I’m a ghost, trapped in these simple routines that mimic life, but don’t feel like living.
I’ve started doubting whether I should post these publicly or not. Writing is absolutely helpful to me. It sorts my thoughts, lays them out for me to try and find some order to them. Lately, my writing reads more like free-form rambling, but even that helps some. I would still write, of course, but I would just flag them as hidden. I’m concerned that if people I know are reading this, all it really does it make them worry about more more. I appreciate that people care about me, but I don’t want to burden them. Part of me doesn’t even want them involved. Not because I don’t want them to know, but because it feels like I should face this alone. It’s like some sort of self-imposed punishment.
The weekends, however, are bad. I just wasn’t ready for a full day alone in this shell of a home, so I reached out in a minimal sort of way. I played video games (Final Fantasy 11… yeah, 11) with some friends, It’s not the same as having people in the house, as hearing her just existing alongside me, but it did help.
Tomorrow I’ll carry my laundry over to my parents’ house, eat some lunch, and listen to advice that I probably won’t agree with in exchange for quelling my mother’s worries about my health. I’ll also deliver my father his birthday present, since that’s coming up. After that, I’ll just have to figure out a way to distract myself for Monday. Maybe I’ll start cleaning up… or more likely I’ll put it off for another week.