I’m restless. Not because I’ve got something on my mind, even though I do. Not because I should exercise and burn off some energy – although that’s probably a good idea. Not because I’m bored – although that’s part of it too.
I wish I could say that a bag of chips and a Pepsi would trash the munchies, but they don’t. Believe me, I’ve tried. I wish my favorite chocolate bar would curb the gnawing void that seems to be growing within me. A good stiff drink dulls it temporarily. A hoot of marijuana yields similar results: a brief respite, nothing more. Short of turning to illegal substances (yes, marijuana is legal in Canada) I am rapidly running short of ideas. And even that isn’t really an option. All I know is there’s this restless hunger, a growing dissatisfaction with myself, my surroundings, my job, my life, with me.
In times past, this familiar-yet-oh-so-frustrating void was a sure sign that I was rapidly falling into a depressive state. In times past, that also meant that suicidal ideation would soon be part of every day life, if it wasn’t already making it’s presence known. Thankfully – so far – that hasn’t happened. Yet.
I was trying to describe this ravenous void, this absolute vacuum that seemed to feed on itself, this nothingness that seems to grow, but nothing seems to beat it back, or to satiate it’s appetite. I said the best way to describe it was knowing you’re hungry, but no matter what you eat, nothing satisfies the hunger, nor that craving you get for your favorite junk food. Sometimes, your body makes you crave nutrients or something you’re lacking. Your hunger will sometimes help you eat what you actually need – the body’s own self-preservation kicks in. But, in this case, nothing fills the void. Nothing satisfies that craving. You know you’re missing something, but you can’t figure it out. It’s frustrating you and you know that it’s affecting those around you. But even worse, is that nothing blunts the edge of that restless, edgy void.
Combine that with a vague, restless, almost subconscious fear that something is wrong, or soon will be. It’s nothing more then that – at best a shadow flirting with your peripheral vision. Not enough to actually catch a glimpse, but enough that you know it’s more than just your mind playing tricks on you. Or is it?
This void, this emptiness, this nothingness has more of a presence than I could ever be able to explain. If you’re nodding your head, you know what I mean – even though you might describe it in a different way. If you’re shaking your head in disbelief, be thankful. Be thankful you don’t have to face something that you know you can’t feed, you can’t tame, you can’t overcome – at best you can occasionally throw a rope around it’s neck and lash it to a tree. Even then, you know it’s been restrained temporarily. It may break free in a minute, in a month, in a year – but you know this beast cannot be put down. And that thought alone can be overwhelming in it’s futility.
I’m hungry. And I don’t know how to dull the ache.