Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Silence is Golden

Somehow all of my friends have finally come to their breaking point all at once about my recent unresponsiveness. I find myself having to explain over and over again. In truth, my gift to these friends has been my silence. I do not answer their emails or texts or numerous voice mails, for the simple truth that I have nothing to say to them. And when I do finally answer these communications, out of guilt mostly, I am told that I am being short, or distant, or neglectful . My point exactly. I am just not very god company for myself, let alone anyone else right now. It isn't you. It's me.

The truth of the matter is I am depressed. Deeply. Profoundly. Depressed. While this is in no way a new emotional frontier in my life, it is much different now than it has been in the past. I have always had what might be described as back burner depression, a general background feeling of malaise. Whereas today, at this very moment, it is much more like a thick fog. An acute sensory awareness of constant, profound unhappiness and despair. I feel disconnected from myself. Separated from my innate Jacob-ness. I feel like a stranger, uncomfortable in my own skin. And, sadly, I'm no longer sure whether that person I once was is simply lost, or somehow no longer exists. I don't say this to be melodramatic. I don't say this to reach out to you for help. I say this because it is the present truth of my life.

My experience in New Mexico was transformative. It feels as though I got the hope kicked out of me, and my purpose, contentment, passion, my sense of self all went along with it. And if that were not bad enough, to have it now all thrown back in my face as a huge waste of my life, by the very people I had hoped to have helped. It is difficult not to feel a combination of anger and relief. The relief that comes with freedom. And the anger that comes with loss and betrayal.

The moral: I need time to pick up the pieces. Give me my space so that I can reinvent or rediscover who I am now, and determine what that means. And bare in mind that no matter what the outcome, I will be changed by this experience. Maybe that is the answer. This is just the manifestation of my unwillingness to accept and go along with the change, my need to evolve, to embrace the ebb and the flow of life. As the buds of spring eventually burst forth into bloom, so too will I emerge from this dark and dreary winter.


gabrielle said...

you will, indeed, emerge. and anything i can do to help, i assume you'll let me know.

Cheyenne said...

we've been wanting to invite you to the movies with us. does the inner-shred of jacob, or whomever, care to join us?