Where even to begin? So much has happened, and yet…nothing is different. Or maybe it is. It’s hard to tell most days. Maybe some day soon I’ll share what exactly has been going on in my life for the past two months or so, but I simply don’t have the energy or will to do that right now. I don’t have the energy for much beyond the bare minimum lately. I wake up, go to work, come home and crawl into bed. I’ve spent so much time in the same position in my bed for the past however many months that you can tell exactly where I lay, curled up in a ball, based on the sinking in of the mattress. It’s a pathetic existence, really.
I’m constantly tired, but I’ve come to realize that it’s the type of tired sleep and coffee can’t fix. I haven’t checked my mail in who knows how long because I’m too tired to walk to my mail box to get it. I still have some groceries in bags sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor that I bought three weeks ago, and I honestly don’t know if they’ll ever find a more permanent home. I have four separate piles of clean but unfolded laundry in my living room that I sift through every morning for something to wear to work, and just the thought of trying to put them all away properly in my bare closet makes me want to cry. And I don’t know why.
This is not a life I ever pictured myself living, that’s for damn sure. Most nights, usually when everyone else is asleep and I’m left alone with just my thoughts, everything feels so hopeless that I start to dream about what things might look like if I just…didn’t exist anymore. I know better than to let my mind go there, but it’s calming to think about. I’ve just about convinced myself that it would be a microscopic loss to the world, and I’ve come to terms with that. Mostly.
Thank goodness for the little things that somehow manage to keep me going – an unexpected laugh with friends, slobbery kisses from my favorite horse, beautiful sunsets, baby ducks in the courtyard at work. I wouldn’t be here without those things. I only hope I can keep finding them.
