Meditation diaries: I can’t compute…

I have feelings and thoughts that I can’t compute.

An error code is flashing behind my eyes with a symbol next to it. The symbol is a triangle with an exclamation mark in it.

It’s not just a writer’s block error code, it’s a code of full system failure to compute feelings and thoughts into words, even to speak them.

There is a lack of ideas at play but at the same time too much in the head at once.

I’m aware of things that for sure feel doom and gloom yet I have no… pathway to use from there to use the information for any purpose. Whether that be, write it out and spread a message, scream it, cry it… I don’t fucking know.

I consider going down and talking to people I see often, but I find once I get towards my door to leave I realise I have nothing I can think of to say.

I mean it’s not that I’m devoid of anything to share, it’s just that I’m devoid of anything that feels worth sharing.

I don’t know if it’s a good thing. A learning curve of realising not all is worth saying.

A silence that could be peaceful if i’d just let myself be lulled by it?

It’s not that I spoke so much previously that this silence is ‘new’ but that even the little bits I did used to speak don’t at present, seem all that worth it.

I kind of like it. But I don’t trust it at the same time.

Because mixed with that there is a sense of my depression being here, pushing against me like the gravity that it is.

I can’t tell if it’s a peaceful pact I’ve found within myself where I no longer feel the need to share things not worthy of sharing or if it’s the depression telling me those things aren’t worth it.

I know the depression never really goes away for me. But I have noticed those times when my depression wants to truly haunt me, but even then vaguely, I’ll find I’ll go to bed at the same time as usual but still find myself waking up late, and when I do wake up, extremely reluctant to get out of that bed.

It’s not that I get out of bed without reluctance even on my better days, but it’s a worse, more determined, grumpy reluctance.

A menacing, sinister unwillingness to shake the covers off and greet a new day.

It takes a lot more of something feeling urgent to get me up. Like needing to pee so bad I might explode and on top of that hearing the budgie that owns me cheeping and cheeping because she’s noticed she’s been in the dark for longer than a usual night so, “Get up goddamn it! Get up!”

Which reminds me that in previous years before I was owned by a Budgie these days would be spent all day in bed.

Being owned by a Budgie and needing to care for her leaves me with an urgency that means I must get up, even if it’s a few hours later than when I’m doing better.

I had a topic in mind I wanted to write about but as said previously I have no words. I’m surprised I’ve squeezed all this out.

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