For the past few weeks, I have been trying to finish a post about how grateful I am for where I’m at right now. I may still get it finished in the near future, but right now, I just can’t. I’ve been doing everything I can to fight off some depression and other personal issuess, and I don’t have any reserves left to do anything else.
Agate Fossil Beds National Monument, 6:59 am, Aug. 21, 2017.
The sky is a blueish-gray. The sun is debating how quickly to rise in the cool, somber sky as the peacefulness of twilight arrives. The quietness of the early morning is peaceful and relaxing and I long to remain in this moment.
Many people find writing to be therapeutic. I am one of them. One key difference for me is I rarely put things down on paper to never be read again. The majority of what I write is posted publicly.
As human beings, it’s easy for us to look at the negative rather than the positive. If we make a mistake, we beat ourselves up over it. We look to blame someone or something else. The negative is easy. We should be paying attention to the little things that bring us joy and appreciation in our lives.
The left side of the desk is my side. The right side is Paul’s side. I do my online therapy from here and there are many distractions.
I walked into my therapist’s office for my usual Tuesday appointment and sat down in my usual spot. We exchanged the normal pleasantries before she said, “Irene. We need to talk.”
My brain screamed the loudest, “Fuck,” I ever heard rattle through my skull. I knew what was coming.
Over the past few weeks, I have been making a conscious effort to spent less time on the internet. It’s been a mostly successful endeavor.
Londo close up.
After a month of staying home to try and keep the coronavirus pandemic from spreading, many people are longing for the time when life can return to normal and how everything was before we started isolating at home. I don’t want to return to what normal was. I want to go someplace better.
Today wasn’t a good day. It began somewhere around 3 a.m., but I honestly don’t know what time it was. The first time I was aware of the time, the clock read 3:15 a.m., Tuesday morning.
Confidence. A belief in oneself. The idea that you have the ability to meet the challenges of life and succeed. Realistically knowing your capabilities and feeling secure with the knowledge of what you can achieve. It is something I still struggle with today.
I received some bad news yesterday and it crushed me.
The news probably isn’t the end of the world and in the grand scheme of things never will be, but it hit me so deep that I didn’t know any other way to react. I didn’t even feel it coming on. There was the news. Then….it just crushed me.
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