Why are all your showers so sad?

Back when I was a teenager and becoming aware of my own existence, I remember a moment where I came to a stunning epiphany about how incredibly unfair life was.  It was appalling. No one ever asked my opinion about whether I wanted to be born or not. Biology just decided randomly, here are your new surroundings for this life, good luck with all that and trying to figure it out.  If they had taken the time to ask, they would have received a hard pass.

This past year was a hard pass for me too, and had me re-thinking the same stupid teenage thoughts. I had a conversation with someone about how she knew that she had to keep on living and was grateful for every day. She saw her children sleeping at night, and she was terrified of something happening to her because she needed to be around for them.  As she was telling me this, I nodded in agreement but I thought to myself, we have completely different outlooks on life.  Here she was, hoping for just one more day, while I was hoping it would be my last day.  It’s not that I wanted to kill myself, I just didn’t want to be here anymore. It was a year where I felt like everyone was moving forward and onward to better things, while I was staying completely still.  And the worst part was, I couldn’t will myself to do anything about it to change my situation.

I only had one goal this past year and that was making it to the end of the day so I could just go to sleep. I have been so grateful for Melatonin because it has successfully helped me reach this daily goal. Waking up was such a nuisance, because that meant another day of feeling like shit.  If I wasn’t sleeping, I’d be crying. At this point, I didn’t really have much energy to feel my anger or sadness, and it would lead to me being a hot mess of tears.  It was okay at work, I’d get distracted without a problem. But at home, when I could just be myself, the tears would come. Most of the time I couldn’t even explain them.  It was worse in the shower.  I would take a shower, get lost in the hot water and my thoughts, and cry for a good while. It would get so bad that Brian didn’t like to leave me alone in the shower, and would come knocking at the door to check up on me in my sad state.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I stopped being the incredible sulk, but the more I thought about working for myself, I slowly felt the dread of each day subsiding. I even started to joke with Brian and threaten him with going to cry in the shower when he wouldn’t let me have my way about something.  One day, I was doing yoga and pulled my right thigh muscle and was in agony for a good five minutes.  Once it subsided, I re-started the yoga video and ended up charlie horsing my left side.  There I was, in intense pain and holding onto my thigh while trying to call out to Brian, but being stifled by a huge fit of laughter from myself at my own stupidity. Tears were coming, but they were definitely not the same ones as before.  A lot of snorting was involved.  It was the best laugh I had all year, and when Brian finally came towering over me in what must have looked like a whole lot of crazy lady, that’s when I realized, okay, that’s enough, it’s time to keep going.  That’s why this blog is called Sad Shower. A bit because of my morbid sense of humour, but also as a reminder to the past year, one that I really never want to re-live again.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t object if tomorrow I was no longer around, I just don’t have that same level of lethargy anymore. I did everything expected of me, and life still said ‘fuck you’. So I did what any sane person would do. I wallowed in self-pity for a good year, and then finally ended up saying fine, fuck you too. I’ll do it my way.

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