11-6-12

“The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time. “
-Abraham Lincoln

My mental and physical capacity has reached its limit. I am finding it hard to concentrate on more than one thing at a time.

Why does it seem that the days have been rushing by, but the weeks feel like decades?
I’m standing in an almost bare room trying to gather my thoughts and plans. While breathing in the dust that is resting upon the many boxes and shelves, I feel the vibe of abandonment given off by the room. There is a stale smell and the items around me look unloved and forgotten about, yet not ready to be let go of.

This is where I’ll be staying.

While trying to move boxes of photographs and old holiday decorations into the garage, I’m realizing that it has been a little over a week since I’ve gotten any real sleep. My son hasn’t settled into our new/old home yet, keeping me up all night, and I’m doing everything I can not to realize my own reality. I’ve felt sudden bursts of energy lately, and I’m rather confused as to whether my medicine is beginning to work, or if it’s a result of the adrenaline that is trying to keep me focused on the false reality I’ve been building for myself for the sake of my own sanity.

After disturbing so much dust in a short period of time I can almost feel my lungs filling with dirt particles. A steady cough has become my friend for the day.

I’m no longer able to think ahead.

I know what I would like to do. I have plans. But I cannot bring myself to act. Everything is happening so fast.

People ask me if I feel any better yet, but that question just seems so difficult for me to answer. I still feel so confused and dyslexic. I’m 5 minutes behind everyone else when it comes to reacting.. Whether it be laughing at a joke or understanding a concept of something. In my mind it feels like I’m somewhere very far away trying to listen into a conversation through a paper cup. It’s like when you put your ear up to a conch shell thinking that you’re listening to the ocean, but in fact it’s your own circulation of blood that you’re actually hearing. Whatever I do hear or comprehend seems to travel to me in a dreamlike state of mind.

Everything is so overwhelming.

I wish I could say that for sure something good will happen from all of this, but it’s really too early to tell. Time will tell if this was for the better. At this point, it is something that has to be taken one day at a time. And honestly, I don’t think I could handle anything more than simply that.

I am asked if I have settled in yet. And I sputter out a “yeah.. I guess so.” But I don’t even really know what settling in is right now. I’ve grown numb to physical and emotional pain. I’m just kind of living.. barely. Everyone and everything is just… kind of there… And the plans for the future, even a future close at hand, seem so distant and unrealistic.

I want to tell you everything is okay. I want to tell you that I’m doing better. I want to tell you that I’m happy with where I am in life. I want to tell you that I know that I’ve made the right decision.

But then I would be lying.

Because I really have no clue what is going on.

Because right now I don’t even feel like myself anymore.

My legs are aching, and possibly reminding me that there still is physical pain. This dull, aching pain is reminding me that my numbing can only last so long. The pain reminds me that a reality face slap is overdue once again. Reminding me that running myself to death isn’t the answer either.

Either way. Maybe I’m just overtired.

Maybe I just need some sleep.