When did I become so pathetic?
When did showering become an achievement to be celebrated? When did I stop being able to make phone calls and get stuff again? When did a morning with my toddler daughter become a virtual Everest looming intimidatingly in front of me? When did I start having to write everything down on my phone so I know what I’m doing? When did I last sleep soundly, without visions or dreams or tears or medication? Do you remember when I used to work, to teach? I barely do. That must have been some other person, not me. Did I have interests? Not really, I don’t think so. Well that’s one less thing to miss I suppose. When did I stop being part of the real world?
Pathetic. I’m 36. Middle aged. I should be over all this now.
I should probably ask when will this end? When will I be better? But I don’t think there’s an answer to that. Right now I don’t even know how to make that happen.