Anxiety · Depression · Personal

The Real Me

New Mexico is beautiful. Don’t get me wrong. Watching the sun rise behind the mountains and painting the high desert in notes of pink and gold is something else. I can see why people move out here for the “Santa Fe Experience”.


But ever since I moved here, I’ve felt like a ghost. I’ve felt like I’ve been drifting in and out of my own existence, questioning reality as I glide.


Is this depersonalization?


Nothing feels real to me. It’s as though reality hasn’t quite kicked in. It’s as though I’m waiting for life to start now that I’m here.


Life has started. Life has done some really fantastic things in New Mexico, and life has done some really horrible things in New Mexico.


So why does none of it feel quite real yet?


My job is real. I get paid for the work I do and I recently filed taxes from my new job. Yet, it feels like a temporary assignment.


My apartment is real. My apartment manager is a doll and The Male and I have lots of privacy here. Yet, it feels like it will be ripped away from us.


I scare myself with visions of a future that won’t come to be.


Buddhism has taught me a very valuable truth: you cannot change the past. You cannot control the future. You must find peace in the now. For a little while that helped me. I would meditate and focus on the present. It cleared my mind.


(Even if you aren’t Buddhist, meditation is incredible for anxiety. Give it a try if you’re like me.)


But I’ve lapsed and my mind has been a flurry while I float on okay, while I float on anyway.


This is probably some cosmic sign that I need to start meditating again. Practicing again.


I guess right now I’ve realized when I’ve pulled away from the spiritual my body becomes a cage and my mind a cyclone.




Off topic.


I think I might start including more pictures in my posts. I’m not a photographer and I never claim to be and my camera is my iPhone 6S. But I can take shots and include them and liven up this place. What do you think?


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