Mid-May Monte Report

When I woke up yesterday, it occurred to me that it was the first day in around three months that there was really no reason to get out of bed. There was nothing to pack, nothing to move, no one else in the house (except my brother's dog). Oh there is plenty for me to do -- I brought lots of stuff to keep me occupied here in Arizona while my brother is at work, plus there's loads of birdwatching to do. But nothing sounded worthwhile enough to entice me to get out of bed. It was scary.

I imagine that I've been standing at the base of a mountain, with my back to it. And now I've been forced against my will to turn around and look at it. It's a mountain I know I have to climb, but it is so daunting a challenge that I'm afraid to take the first step. It's both daunting, and taunting: I can see giant billboards that no one else can see, signs that say "You're such a loser, Monte!" and "You're so pathetic!" and "Surely your California friends are glad you're moving away!" and "You can't even hold down the simplest of jobs!" In other words, I suck and shouldn't even try to get over the mountain.

There's still a small part of me that knows I'm not thinking rationally. But it's a small part of me, and it's tired and bruised. My hope is that in a few days I'll grow weary of feeling sorry for myself, and I'll resume the journey towards mental health, the journey that began in earnest when I was in the hospital four years ago, but which somehow stalled over the past year. For now, though, I'm not feeling very optimistic.