Hi, I’m Lulu. Remember me?
I return with no heroine’s song or an epic detailing profound successes. I do not bear tragic tales of unspeakable horrors or profound loss.
This is the story of a 28 year old woman who fell into an emotional coma and awoke (insert comment about what I awoke as).
The loss of my emotional consciousness happened gradually. Emotions started to become fuzzy, and reactions started to dull.
One day, I decided that I would sleep in. I planned a “vacation day” from my life and responsibilities.
One day became two. That became a week, and it continued until it was habitual. I had completely disengaged from life as I had known it.
At first, I considered it to be “human hibernation”. Sleeping had become my favorite recreational activity. It had gotten to the point where retaining consciousness was a willful action. Other than my martial arts training, I was entirely sedentary. Any activity that required active participation simply did not interest me.
During my initial “vacation”, I discovered a wealth of mindless activities that suited me. I started watching syndicated daytime television of my favorite programs I had seen dozens of times before. My phone became a source of unending video games. And eating had almost become a sport.
My hibernation wasn’t symptomatic of a depressive state. It initially was a choice. I chose to engage solely in mindless, hedonistic activities to fulfill an overwhelming desire for indulgence.
However, the hibernation slipped into a depressive state that was completely foreign to me. It can only be described as something far past apathy.
It was emotional paralysis.
The emotional coma began.
Necessary functions of my life became automatic. Cook, clean, care for Beast. Wash, dry, fold. Feign listening with Xan and occupy the same sofa until I fell asleep on it. Rinse. Repeat.
Things that used to bother me failed to even make a scratch. Conversely, things that used to bring me pride, satisfaction, fun, and joy no longer existed. There was no past and no future. It was as if I remained still on a conveyer belt while the whole world moved independently right in front of me. There was me, like driftwood in the currents of time. Dead wood.
But, as the first buds of Spring spouted, I began to slowly regain consciousness.
On a whim, I grabbed a journal out of a discount bin. Within a few days, I was writing again.
I finally got on the scale, and was horrified.
Then, the mission back to health was born. It was not just a matter of getting my figure back. I not only wanted to feel, but I strongly desired true emotional wellness. For the first time in fifteen years, I yearned for spiritual peace.
I had my mission. And I was determined to finally succeed.
To be continued…