I am so tired.
I was SO excited to go to the gym today. I told myself I’d take it easy, and I thought (I really, really thought) I did. But without even doing much of anything, I seem to overdo it, and am exhausted again.
I can’t even begin to explain how hard it is for me to balance my active brain with my slowly healing body that keeps me from DOING anything. I’m not the kind of person to sit around, doing nothing. And I HATE feeling helpless.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through this, God.
How can I keep doing this for even another day, let alone a year or more??
And the loneliness … oh God, the loneliness.
It washes over me, dark and cold.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Even with people who love me around me, I’m still so damn lonely. I can’t explain it. I have no language for it.
I turn to Facebook just to feel connected to the world, in some way.
My emotions are all OVER the place, right now.
I’ll give you an example of what a minute in my mind is like right now. Ready?
I’m so moody. Weepy. I miss my puppy. What if he doesn’t even remember me? What if he loves his trainer more than me? He needs a travel bag. Oh God, when will I be able to travel again? I hate this. I want to go to Morocco and Tanzania. Japan. I had to cancel all my plans, events, tours. Maybe that was a mistake. Maybe the doctors are wrong. F*ck the doctors. Not everybody needs so much recovery time. People don’t heal the same. I feel so hateful. Resentful. I don’t want to comb my hair anymore. Maybe I’ll get braids. I got flowers today. They’re nice. I’m so moody right now, I can’t stand it. I want Happy home. He is all that I have of my own, anymore.
See what I mean?
I cannot get my brain to calm down.
My mind is overwhelmed, and my body is … tired.
I wonder if this is what it feels like to be hormonal when you’re pregnant. #thisissomebullshit
It makes even something as simple as talking to people SO hard. And it takes so much energy to engage.
And that’s why I write.
But writing doesn’t do much for the loneliness.
#realtalk: I’m frustrated as f*ck with my entire life right now. The life I know is over. Nothing I can do about it. Nothing I can change. It just is.
I think it must be like how an athlete feels when s/he plays pro ball, gets injured, and can’t play anymore. If it’s a serious injury, maybe even after s/he heals, s/he still can’t play ball anymore. S/He has to sit out, on the sidelines. Stop what s/he’s used to doing, and watch the world continue right on without her/him.
I think God is f*cking with me. If I’m being really REAL, I think he’s laying down some bullshit.
So we’re fighting, right now. Boxing.
That doesn’t mean I doubt. I know it’s Divine Order. I just don’t like it.
I don’t always have to agree with God.
I can have my opinions. I can be pissed.
I’m allowed to feel like this is not my life.
This can be just a SEASON in my life. A season of rest, even if I don’t want it. Even if I hate it.
God, I am tired.
And yes, even that is paradoxical, isn’t it? I resent my doctors and question how they could possibly think I need so much rest … rest, rest, rest … yet I’m saying I’m so tired all the time.
I get it.
I feel urrrrrrr, but I get it.