Am I hungry? Angry? Lonely? Tired?
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
I am operating out of a deficit. My baseline is in the basement. If you ask, “How are you?” I will usually say that I am doing okay, because most of the time, I believe it. The truth, which I have to come to realize over and over again, is that I am standing in a deep hole, fighting physical and mental fatigue. My body/mind is wrecked by stress and neglect. Nearly every day is a struggle to achieve a basic routine. My faith is in here, somewhere, but I can’t feel it right now.
Fear and anguish, exhaustion and so much anger. Those, I feel.
Stop. Have I eaten lately? What am I feeling, what’s beneath the anger? Have I made contact, real contact with a human being lately? How much sleep did I get last night, or the night before?
Eat a little something. Take the medications. Lie down, put your feet up. Breathe.
This is life lived in increments, thousands of baby-steps, and it’s infuriating. And necessary.
NO, I want to scream, I WANT MY LIFE BACK! WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?
This too shall pass. Hopefully I will not pass before it does.
I have not spoken to Mark in almost four months. I am almost fifty years old, I am worn out, and I am so alone.
Stop. Breathe. H.A.L.T.