I saw a friend tonight. We ate burgers to celebrate Thanksgiving. We caught up on work news and gossip and dating stories (his, not mine). It was a really nice evening, and courgette fries were involved (always a bonus). But I found it kind of exhausting.
It’s something I’m noticing more and more when I see my friends. And I’m not entirely sure how to describe it. It’s almost as if I’m not me. Like I can see and hear myself smiling and laughing and talking and telling stories, but I don’t feel attached to that April. I feel like a smaller April, somewhere deep inside this shell. I feel detached from my edges.
I guess you could say I’m putting on a brave face, or putting on an act.
It kind of feels like more than that, though. It kind of feels like I’ve forgotten how to be me, but I’m desperately trying to remember.
At times I’m on auto-pilot, talking about work or laughing at old jokes, when inside I’m yelling out, “I feel awful.” For some reason, I’m too ashamed to say it out loud.
I really liked the old me. I hope she comes back soon.
Pizza of Doom 
Oh man, I can so totally relate 😦 I really can. I just posted an entry called ‘Reflection’ because i swear, the me who’s doing all these things lately, living the life I am, going out with friends and whatever…. it feels like someone else doing it.
I feel your pain, friend. I do. I hate this feeling and it really is exhausting.
Hugs.
I had a burger for Thanksgiving too.
Sounds like you are going through a tough time… I well know that “caged inside and screaming while smiling” sort of feeling. It helps to try and get in touch with something you know you enjoy doing… or something you remember doing and feeling alive about. And hopefully blogging helps too 😉
“screaming while smiling” perfect description!
I don’t seem to enjoy doing any of the things I used to enjoy doing anymore. But good advice. I’ll try and find something.
Hope you enjoyed your Thanksgiving burger x
Ah, yes. A feeling that is all too familiar. A thought that strikes when talking to old friends or watching a show that says “Is this me? What am I doing here? Why? This is what happy people do – I should not be here.” My therapist says that I have to fake being OK, being involved with people because that will create and nurture my support system and because that is the only way out.
On a related note, my Thanksgiving dinner consisted of rehydrated freeze dried chicken breasts and mashed potatoes eaten outside, in the darkness, in the -15 degree weather, at an altitude of 985 meters above sea level. Heaven, I tell you. Heaven!