Life is Like a Ferris Wheel

Have you ever noticed that life is like a Ferris Wheel? You have your ups and downs; you have exciting times when everything is going by in a rush; you have times when you are on top of the world and can see for miles in any direction; you have the anticipation of going backwards as you head back up again; you have times when you are at the bottom and it seems like you will always be there; then it starts up again and soon you are on top.

Everyone has natural ups and downs throughout their life. Many folks do well whether they are at the top of the cycle or somewhere else. It's expected and we all know and (probably) understand that.

The hard thing for me, right now, is that my life's Ferris Wheel is controlled by a random number (monster) generator. Just when I feel like I'm headed up and might be able to enjoy the view for a while, the monster gives an evil laugh and reverses the wheel and brings me down again. Then, just when I think I'm going up the other side, it reverses again and back down I go. Sometimes I go all the way around, but the time at the top is so quick that I almost don't notice it. It speeds up at the top and slows way down at the bottom. That's how it feels to me right now. Just when I'm feeling a little better, something happens, a thought crosses my mind or or I see a picture, or with no identifiable trigger at all, I plummet back into that crater in my mind that is so dark, lonely and sad that I let out a mental (and sometimes a physical) gasp. Then all the energy I've stored up or managed to generate is sucked out of me and I'm left at the bottom, once again, wondering if this wild, twisted ride will ever end and let me off. It feels like I have no control and am at the mercy of the wheel operator. Still, I sometimes feel, deep inside, that if I could just, for a moment, stop being so spineless, so weak and just reach out hard enough and long enough, I could grab the controls and then I could could stop this deranged wheel and get back to my life. Just as I gather my energy and reach out... straining with all I have ... it fades away like an early morning dream and I fail. I almost had it I say, then back in the hole I go. This is like those (including myself) who tell me that if I would only be more positive, if I would just try harder that I would be fine. I believe them, I try, but I fail, again. I can see that handle that controls this nightmare of a Ferris Wheel and it looks oh so tantalizingly close. But it's always just out of reach... I can't quite latch onto it. So the ride goes on and on and on...

Earlier this evening I was at our ward Christmas party and was feeling pretty good. For no reason I can discern, I just dropped off and sunk into a dark feeling again. I'm sitting here trying to fight it and feeling so helpless. Sigh ... I really don't know how long I can hang on, but I must keep fighting - letting the beast win is not an option... But I am sooooooooooo tired of this. :(

It feels like I'm weak and lazy and stupid. That's the dastardly part of this whole experience. I'm no longer sure if it's something I can't fix or if some part of me just wants to be incapacitated so I have a lame excuse for my lack of effort and results. I could just fix it and be fine if I wanted to, right? It feels like I should be able to do that, but I can't or is it that I don't? I'm so confused and afraid. Am I that pitiful that I would deliberately languish in the depths of this dark confusion of mind so I would be pitied by others and get the attention that I crave? Do I need attention and the sympathy or pity of others so profoundly that I would work against my best interest just to keep receiving that sick kind of feedback? I hope not, I pray not. For if I am that pitiful, what hope is there?

In my heart I don't believe that is true. I am truly suffering from an illness. It's a savage, often misunderstood and a very difficult illness to treat. So many people, even myself, believe that if I would just try hard enough that I could get myself back on my feet and in control again. I know that this is real - that it is an illness, yet, even I sometimes think that it's just me. That I'm just weak and pathetic. How can I blame others who think so?

Please, understand that it is an illness as real as the flu, as painful as a heart attack, as lonely as a deserted island. I know that I, alone, can not fix it. It may not go away on its own regardless of my efforts at positive thinking and shoulder squaring and determination. I need help and the understanding, or at least compassion, of friends and family who thankfully do not and have not suffered through this debilitating and horrific illness. I may even need the help of drugs, though I abhor them and fear them. Perhaps I should seek a competent psychiatrist, one with the necessary experience to provide the help I need. It's hard because of the stigma of mental illness and my lack of trust in the medical (mental) system.

Maybe I can try that, tomorrow. Tonight, I'm just too tired to do anything. It's just too much effort.  Sigh ...