Maggie’s face says it all.
I fell asleep last night before midnight. I can remember a time when it was imperative that I stay up all night to ring in the new year. Now?
I couldn’t care less.
My soul is tired, y’all.
I know, I know. Someone out there is going to start gesturing at their computer screens and shouting, “But you’re an atheist! How can you believe you have a soul?”
It’s a figure of speech, OK? My soul, personality, emotions, core of my being, heart, prefrontal cortex, just… whatever, alright? It’s all fucking exhausted.
While the world shouts, “FUCK OFF, 2020!” I keep wondering, “What’s going to be so great about 2021?” There’s still a pandemic. Vaccines aren’t being administered as quickly as they should. There are still assholes refusing to wear masks and gathering in large groups putting the rest of us at risk and whining about vaccines being a government plot to track us with RFID chips all while watching flat-earth videos on their iPhones that alert cell towers as to their exact locations at all hours of the day and night. Politicians are still in the game of running the show not because they want to make the world a better place but because they like the attention and power. Left or right? Liberal or conservative? Centrist or extreme? What does it matter? The people who should be running the show are too smart to be politicians. We’re all still at home and going to be for the foreseeable future. There’s no change, all monotony, no inspiration. Eating is a chore and so is showering, writing, taekwondo, cross-stitching, playing the piano… all of it.
By staying in place, not moving, I have lost my way.
I take anti-depressants and if it wasn’t for my daily dose of Zoloft, I would probably be a nervous wreck, shivering in a corner and lashing out at my loved ones. As it is, I’m pleasant on the outside and slowly withering away on the inside.
I’m so very sad. Just… indescribably sad. I’m trying really hard to keep it together for my family. My friends. To just be a person who isn’t a raging basket case. But I’m exhausted by nothing changing and everything changing.
Three of my favorite people are gone. Forever. Each time I step outside my house I feel like people are meaner. Nastier. Because of that, I don’t want to leave. But if I don’t get out of this house soon, I may just go crazy.
My life is like constantly-flipping coin. Heads or tails? Tails or heads? I don’t know.
I’ll probably re-organize my office. Buy a new comforter. Try reading a new book. Binge watch another TV show on Netflix. But I know that deep down, those are just temporary fixes. For me, I feel like 2021 is going to be just a repeat of 2020.
And I’m pretty devastated just thinking about it.
Middle-Aged Motherhood 
can’t even express how much I love you and your honesty right now. It’s so courageous to even lay it on the table and say, “Hey, I feel like shit and I don’t see an end to that.” The vulnerability characteristic is rare and beautiful and heart-wrenching. I know how it feels to lose favorite people. It’s devastating and all-consuming and difficult to keep breathing without them. But I know your loved ones would not want you feeling this way, just as mine don’t want me feeling that way. It is NOT okay that they’re gone. It is not and time does NOT heal all wounds. But it is okay that you feel the way you feel. Be kind to yourself and continue some self-care activities. Continue loving your husband and kids and family and animals and friends. Love transcends death, so we just need to continue loving.
I don’t know if any of that made sense or made you feel better or not. But know that I’m walking beside you on this journey and I’m here. Love you lady! ❤
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My love. I get it. I am in the process of leaving that place. Don’t be hard on yourself. Grieve. Be sad. Feel it all. It will
Take time, but it will get better.
Please reach out to me if you want to talk, vent, or whatever. I’m still close enough to where you are emotionally to really understand what you’re going through.
Sending love. ❤️💜❤️💜
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My love. I know. It’s awful. I am still in the process of leaving the place you’re in. I get it.
Feel your feelings. Grieve. Don’t be hard on yourself for them. This is the shitty part of love, of life. It will get better. Promise.
I’m here whenever you need somewhere to go with those feelings. ❤️💜
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My love. I know. It’s awful. Don’t be hard on yourself. Feel your feelings. Grieve. This is the shitty part of love—when it has nowhere to go. But it will get easier. I didn’t think it would but it does. The heart is resilient.
I’m here for anything you need to talk about. I’m still close enough to where you are to remember. ❤️💜
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I feel the same way. I ran out of one of my anti-depressants, and I am waiting for the tumble. I feel disconnected from the world, but then I see people running around like nothing is happening, and I realize that I will be disconnected from the world for a while. Sometimes I even feel disconnected in my own household. It’s ridiculous how people thought or think that everything changes because of a new year.
I went to bed before midnight, too. It is the first time I can remember not staying up, or even being able to stay up. I have been trying to walk on the treadmill, because I can’t afford another chin, but what I really want to do is walk outside. But, with an anxious husband, and the neighborhood not wearing masks to even check their mail, I need to stay in. I’m tired.
I am just a phone/text/whatever away if you need someone to talk to.
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