Life Goes on in the New Year. Even on a Broken Day

Well, a month and a half has come and gone since I last wrote something here, and not for a lack of news and change. While Christmas started off kind of slow, emotionally, it got better as December went on. I got to spend time with family and friends, and I got some nice gifts. And while gifts were nice, I much preferred not having to push myself during the month of December.

The Steadward Centre was closed for several weeks during the holiday, which gave me some time to heal. I did get sick right around New Years, but that holiday has never meant a whole lot to me so I was okay with spending it getting better. The end result was that I took more time off from the Steadward Centre than I had originally planned.

So, when I got back to going in mid-January, I needed to start near where I began in sets, reps, and weight. It actually felt quite challenging and I've been trying to go three times every week. Yet, today I didn't go, and not because I feel sick physically, or anything. I just didn't "feel" like it. I was in a mood and didn't feel like faking that everything was good and that I wanted to be there.

I hate doing that.

So, I spent today brooding, or sleeping, hoping tomorrow will be better. It was a strange day. Last night I went to Johnn's place to play D&D and we had a lot of fun. Our very low-level PCs survived an encounter with a harpy, an ankheg, an ogre, and two dretches. (Not all at the same time, however.) I won't go into details as it would likely bore the few non-gamers who might be reading this.

Anyway, it was a fun night so I figured I'd be great today. And yet, I felt annoyed since the moment I woke up today. I was in a lot of physical discomfort, but nothing that I haven't gone through before. It was only when I realized it was going to be one of those bad days, mentally and emotionally, that I started to get down on myself. I won't go into details, so let's just say I had a Broken Day.

What's that, you ask? Well, it's simple really.

It is a day where you feel so messed up inside that nothing can fix it. Not medication, not a kind word, not physical activity. You don't want to be around people or do anything constructive. You spiral down into a fit of horrible melancholy that warps your sense of right and wrong. You lose your humanity, momentarily, to the endless struggle in your mind to try and convince yourself that life is getting better, and not worse. Nothing anyone says or does will help make you feel better. Crying doesn't help, other than releasing a tiny trickle of the negative emotions that fill your head and body as a never-ending torrent.

It is like that, but much worse. There isn't any way to describe one of my really, really bad Broken Days. And for all the horror and pain of it, today is not even close to my worst day. Nothing will ever be that horrible ever again. The truth is that every Broken Day is an echo of the worst day of my life. I day I created myself through immaturity, hopelessness, false love, and raw, negative emotions. The day I let fester in my mind until the actual time came.

The last day I saw and talked to her.

Every mistake with women since then has been a "haunting", repeating itself, of that day. The words were not the key, it was in inability to feel anything other than pain. I thought I was in love. The truth was that I couldn't love her because I couldn't love myself. Now, more than a decade later, I wake up with that sense of lost, an after image in my heart, mind, and soul. It tainted me, as I'm sure my subconscious had planned it to be so. This way, I have convinced myself that no woman could ever love me because I hated who I was back then.

The truth is that I now know I do love myself, even with all the pain and misery I have inflicted on myself. Yet, the hate of the person that I was still remains buried in my subconscious, torturing me. I want it to go away so badly, but I don't know how to make it stop. I can't let go, because I worry that pain is all that I have left. If I lose it then what is left for me but emptiness. That scares me more than any physical or mental anguish that I might be feeling.

So, this is why I didn't go to the Steadward Centre today. I didn't want to try and hide it all behind a fractured mask.