What of my life?

Seems like this is a common theme here, doesn't it?  I suppose most pressing and important issues will make their way onto a person's journal quite frequently.  Somehow, I seem to never reach a point where I'm actually finding any solutions to the problem(s), nor do I find any answers or...whatever.  Such is the way of life, isn't it?

Today I have an oddly unsettling feeling that is actually familiar.  It's been a while since I've felt this way, and I will state, emphatically, that I do not like it one bit.  Not once in my life where I've felt this way have I been able to put into words what it is or even truly what it feels like.  All I know is that it's surreal in many ways, and a bit haunting.  What does it mean?  What do I do about it?  Why am I feeling it?  Who freaking knows?  I don't.

Off-balance.  Just simply off-balance (or not so simply).

One thing about insomnia is that it makes me so tired that I end up spending my day in a blissful haze of blurred confusion.  Meaning, I can't even tell what it is I'm confused about when I feel that way.  On one hand the fatigue, pain, and all the other terrible side effects of insomnia are horrendous and something I wouldn't wish on anyone.  Yet, on the other hand it's a blessing in disguise, because while in such a state I can't really focus, nor can I see clearly anything around me.  Oh, I can see what 's going on, but the fatigue and resulting brain fog makes it easy for me to avoid.  No.  That's not a good thing.  I get that.  But still...

I can't spend my life in that state, even though it does have its up-side.  Blissfully ignorant only lasts for so long before you lose yourself in its grasp.  If I can only just stay right here I'll be okay.  It's a lie.

Indulging in the art of distraction (from myself) wastes time.  It doesn't require any energy, which makes it even more dangerous to indulge in.  If something takes little effort you're more likely to keeping doing that 'thing.'  I realize the dangers of this, especially in my situation.  I can't drown myself in books or tv or whatever for very long, and eventually reality catches up to me and beats my ass.  Yeah, I know.  Who the hell wants to live this way?  I don't.

My flawed thinking is reckless.

I know what I need, what I need to do, and I allow the lines to blur on purpose.  Within the confines of my current environment I feel completely shackled to a life that isn't my own.  That's just the truth.  T doesn't see it, nor is he a part of any form of a 'support network.'  I've spoken about this often enough, but I've withheld details.  I've withheld a LOT of details.  Most of them, to be honest.  No matter how hard I try to open up about it all I just can't seem to.  More than likely, I suspect this reaction (or lack of one) a learned thing.  Far too many years behind me in which I've tried to talk to someone about what I'm dealing with, only to have them turn on me.

Doesn't mean I don't keep trying.

Each time I make an entry into any of my 3 blogs... I make a valiant effort to open up and speak frankly.  I will have success one day.  NOT talking about things isn't helping me.  Not at all.

I need to try harder to open up here.