Rambling Writings (+ Shorts)

Sometimes

Sometimes, it just becomes impossible to talk. The words won't come out, on the screen nor audibly. My fingers, which are normally so eager and agile, freeze on that virtual QWERTY keyboard. My throat closes up, my vocal chords refuse to stretch, my brain stalls... and I don't know why. A sadness seeps over me, and that's all it takes to bring on such a silence. I go quiet.

And then people wonder what's wrong.
"Georgia, you okay?"
"What's up?"
"Are you ignoring me?"
Or... utter silence, and I find I don't like either. I don't like the unstoppable torrent of concern and love, though appreciated it is, nor do I like the long silences when those people are preoccupied. I flicker back and forth, from app to app, the tension gripping my sadness and exacerbating it all the more. I try to think of the words to say. I try to put the iPod down. I try to breathe and I try to distract myself. I try to believe I am strong. I try to believe that I have nothing to be anxious about. I try and I try and I TRY!

And I wonder what is wrong with me.
"Why am I like this?"
"Why do they care?"
"Am I on enough medication?"
"I'm not trying hard enough."
"I haven't practiced my CBT techniques."
"I'm not doing enough."
Pathetic isn't the word for how I feel. Deplorable. Am I not good enough? It seems when I am trying my best to breathe in a world that drowns me, I'm "doing it wrong". I'm "not trying hard enough". I'm "being lazy". The worst thing is, these aren't the words of others. This is all in my head! All of it! The people around me say what my brain says are lies... "Georgia, that was fantastic."; "I'm really proud of you."; "You did really well today.".
The worst "lie"... the worst "lie" according to my brain is "I love you". Why is it that my brain automatically thinks it a lie? Love is real! Love is real and I know it, but why, when it is directed at me, why can I not believe its existence? Am I unloveable?

Is it the words of others? The actions of lovers past? Because I can tell you, I've never been held so tenderly as he holds me. Soft Northern tones hush my worries, but yet... those words, my brain still says "lies!" to. It yells, like a little bratty child on the playground. It yells "Lies! Lies! Lies!". That inner voice, that inner... goddess? Demon, more like. Its tones are laced with sarcasm.

"Pfft, dream on, darling." I can see it now, in my mind's eye, her red lips curling into an evil smirk. "If they didn't love you, if things didn't work out with them, this will fall, too." She's a cruel mistress, that demon, for she has my brain. She knows what I know and she has seen what I have seen. Done as I have done. Talked as I have talked. She has seen those be cruel to me, yet she is soft to them. That ruby serpentine tongue only flicks out against me. With all of my spirit (on a good day), I fight her. I tell that inner bitch that she's wrong. He does love me, for God's sake, of course he does. I tell her that life has a mysterious way of working things; things didn't work out with the others because they weren't meant for me. They were but passing ships in this ocean.

But on a bad day, when anxiety and depression stab like knives and pierce like arrows, deeper and deeper into my back, when I am void of all energy, she overwhelms me. I'm laid there on the ground, and there she is, circling me. She doesn't have to kick me, her words do enough. My spirit is tired. Like a sturdy old work horse, it can only take so much. The horse will tire in the end, and need replenishing, as will the spirit. But that witch, that demon, she does not wait. She's right there, with those bastard clicking heels, and her smart-arse red suit, tutting and circling. If she were to have a spirit animal, you could safely bet that it would be a vulture. When my spirit is tired, she picks at every inch of me.

Love is real. It is no lie. Love is the reason for me. I... I can hardly find the sense to finish this. It is all but a ramble. I fear I have strayed rather from my original point. I just can't find it in me to talk. I don't know why I'm sad. I'm sorry.