Slipping Away….


As I’ve been in bed for most of the last week, besides going to work, I am writing, perhaps too much, but I apologize, since I need to bleed somewhere….  What can I say?  What can I say to describe to you what I am feeling?  What can I say that you already don’t know?  Fia is slipping, Fia is drowned in grief, regret, failure, loss, guilt.  I called my DBT coach yesterday.  I was vomitting from sadness and anxiety.  What she told me was to use “opposite action.”  “What would you like to be doing right now?”  “What can you push yourself to do?”  All I could think was how I wanted to dance.  “I want to go to a dance class.”, I responded,  “Then go.” she demanded.  Dance?  I was paralyzed.  This woman must be out of her mind, I thought.  My guts are spilling on the floor, I cannot breathe, I feel nailed to a cross ripping me apart and she wants me to dance?  “You have to push yourself Fia”, she replied.  So, I did.  I pushed myself to the couch and dreamt of dancing instead.  Call me a quitter, tell me I’m giving up, a complainer, but even getting to that couch and actually dreaming of what I enjoy, what I used to do, was an accomplishment.  But, today there were no dreams, there was no life, the slightest movement woke up the pain laying dormant as long as I kept still.  What makes it all the worse is knowing, knowing that Life is moving forward without me.  If only it were possible to freze time, until I was able to pull myself up again, there wouldn’t be such a feeling of loss would there?  Vincent Van Gogh, after shooting himself , said something to the effect “I’m afraid this pain will last forever….”  As am I.  Am I ever gong to move, walk, run, dance, live again?  Who can take me down from this cross?  Who can stop the bleeding?  I am at a loss, I am slipping away….

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7 Responses

  1. Keep imagining yourself dancing, if that is where you are right now.

    That is meditation. The visualization of you dancing is a step towards dancing.

    Keep stepping towards the dance.

    The dance will come to you.

    With love and blessings,
    Z.

  2. You’re not the only one. At this point I think work is what’s keeping me alive, what’s pushing me to get up, to breathe and at 430, when I get off, i drive home with horrid thoughts floating through my brain, and wonder how I manage to lie to all these people when i feel like I am dying. I am both bipolar and borderline and I went to the doctor a month ago to tell him there was a problem, something was off. His cursory response was that my hospital records indicated that I had a problem with my emotions so he would only make a simple med change and not even the one I asked for. Not that I would know anything since obviously I was emotionally unstable and have only suffered with this for ten years. My rant. Now I have been waiting over a month for a doctor and must wait 10 more days. It’s like an eternity and like you said you feel yourself slipping away, and lying as still as possible so as not to disturb the monsters roaming in your head. I hear you and I do feel your pain, and I wish for you something that helps you hang out…if its dreaming about dancing…whatever lets you breathe another minute…that is a victory….

  3. The worst thing about a vacation is that U have to come home to the same thing U left. I always hadone patient on the Monday after vacation wo took me down. She was so depresed and would not change tie, It was the flow of humanity that would ger to me, plus all the telephone messages I had to answer, and people who resented my going away. It would take weeks to get used to it again. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep. People get pissed when U have a vacation when U finally get a week off and have a good time. People, People Bill

  4. Fia, please don’t give up. Your writing means so much to me.

    Focus on the little steps; they build up to the big changes. You can’t instantaneously make everything better, but you can make this one moment better.

  5. What a powerful description of a very difficult experience. I admire how you are able to describe your pain. That is a gift. Your creative expression, it can be medicine, not only for you, but for others. Please do keep writing, and dancing – in your dreams, in your life. Your words are a dance of expression. Thank you.

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