Paralyzed

Having watched a lot of B- and C-grade schlocky horror movies, there’s one theme that I find myself cringing at time and time again. It’s where someone is administered a dose of curare (or some other paralyzing agent), which renders them unable to move, yet totally aware and conscious of their surroundings. The killer then proceeds to bury the person alive or some other such nightmarish demise, all the while the person can’t do a fucking thing (including scream).

Cut to them, hours later, inside a coffin, punching and scratching away at the lid, screaming with no hope of being heard. I’ve had plenty of nightmares (and night terrors) that mirror this scenario.

Lately, I feel like that paralyzed dude, laying there, watching while someone who has it in for me digs my grave. I’ll be walking from, say, the kitchen to the living room or my bedroom…and I’ll

freeze

in the midst of walking. Suddenly, I don’t remember what I was about to do, why I was walking into Room X.

My breath catches, I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate, but I don’t. I just stand there, trying to remember to breathe like a normal person, on the verge of tears. The other day, I just dropped to the floor and sat there for about 10 minutes.

Paralyzed.

Don’t know what to do – most all of my normal “escape” routines are stripped from me. The things that I’d usually do to relieve anxiety and stress (TV, music, computer, books, magazines, iPhone) sit there in front of me, not appealing in the slightest. I zip through page after page of satellite guide listings, but nothing looks good to me. Page after page of apps/games on the iPhone, but nothing seems fun. Etc. etc. ad nauseum.

It’s officially May now, when I should be announcing my next big Resolution for the Year of Resolutions. Yet I don’t give a flying fuck, especially since the ones I’ve chosen thus far have all gone to shit.

Paralyzed. Must breathe.

I don’t think I have to strength to hit bottom (again). Course, at the moment I don’t feel I have the strength to get a single thing done. Consider it a miracle I went out to Office Depot and got Mom a new wireless mouse for her computer this morning. And I got it installed. It feels ridiculous that this is likely going to be all I accomplish today.

I feel pathetic. Every move seems futile, even if I’m just pointing the remote at the TV to pause it or turn the volume down.

Everything is stifling, oppressive. Every little task is this giant thing…making coffee, putting a sandwich together, making a phone call. I go to text someone, or (God forbid) call them and that’s futile, too. The loneliness weighs upon me, yet I don’t know what to say. I’m a broken record, everything coming out of my mouth is this repulsively sick depressive verbiage. Why impose that on my friends, just to drag them down with me?

I hate it. And the negative shit running through my brain, the suicidal ideation, hits hardest at times like these. (I’m safe, no worries about that shit.) I don’t deserve to be here – on this planet – I add nothing to the universe but misery. Sad, sorry little man.

Fucking paralyzed.