The sky was divided into discrete zones of horror and perfect weather. The sky was dis·crim·i·nate·ly (yes, that’s a word) destroying the earth. Just across the street — a very wide avenue — a tour collapsed on its side. It fell on the street but it managed to just brush against the building where I lived. Above my head was perfect weather.
The top story of the collapsed tour had a door to it, and somehow I knew that there were children inside, probably all dead now, crushed in a bloody pile on one side. I was certain that the top level was where children were stacked to play while adults were at work. I asked neighbors to force the door open, the top story of the collapsed tour was now resting on the ground. Surprise, surprise, there was no children inside, just one woman, with her waist almost completely severed by a table. When we removed the table from her she managed to stay alive for a short while. A woman turned to me and kissed me on the lips. She looked like Dr Grey from Grey’s Anatomy LOL... Then that beautiful girl turned toward the injured woman, she lied down next to her, put her arms around her, kissed her on the lips and waited for her to expire her last breath.
I woke up from that dream feeling well. I really am witnessing my own dying now, from an almost sweet spot. Every now and then, I am very sad and I sob (and it takes me a LOT to cry, I don’t have that much energy to actually cry). I become the woman with the severed waist, longing for someone’s touch and kiss. But most often, I am witnessing the destruction of the world.
I was sitting at some terrace last night, eating something I used to love eating. I forced myself to eat a third of my plate — I am hungry but I have not much of an appetite — and the food didn’t taste bad, but didn’t taste good either. I was not unhappy. I was not happy. I was no where to register on the happiness chart. I was not feeling good, that’s for sure. People around me, I thought, are not alive the same way that I am now.
How can this be? Can I be any more precise in describing this feeling? I tried to. Either they are all dead and I am alive (Philip K. Dick said that...), I thought. Or I am dead while they’re still alive. But what feels closer to the Truth is really that we are not alive in the same way. I have been experiencing several of the most common symptoms of depression for months now, I realize that: loss of appetite (with a significant weight loss), loss of interest for most things that used to interest me, and being tired. A doctor said last week that I probably am in a state of toxicity, due to my sick kidneys, and that such toxic state comes with all these symptoms. And I am able to still have fun with people whom I feel free to be my new self with.
Grace wrote something amazing on her blog today: “What happens when I let go of all of the labels and opinions and beliefs I’ve held for myself? Good ones, bad ones, important ones, silly ones. Terms I’ve used to help define myself for work, for relationship, for purpose? [...] No more borders for me to color within. No more blueprint I have to figure out how to build to. My life becomes a free flowing work of art in which all things become possible. I am unencumbered by the chains of past experiences that have held me captive, I can use my power to recreate myself — my entire life — in whatever fashion I desire. I’m free to become someone completely new. [...] Liberated, I then explore new territory, inwardly and outwardly, using only the compass of my desires and spirit to guide me. Letting go of who I think I am is like leaping off a cliff and into the air, suddenly discovering I have wings! Rather than being pulled roughly back to land by those chains of preconceived ideas, I find that I am unencumbered to fly in whatever direction my dreams and intentions take me. And as I fly, I find myself in wonder and amazement at the vast riches of the world…the vast riches of the ME that was there all the time, and I didn’t know it.”