I’m still alive. I just have some [stressful, upsetting] stuff on my mind [that seems worse than usual but maybe I’m just at the end of my rope] making it difficult to write or do much of anything that involves thinking… mostly because I’m trying to think as little as possible. That’s not working, of course, as it’s impossible not to think. Just in case you were wondering.
I have zero ability to make decisions. Every one I’ve ever made in my life seems to have been wrong so I think my mind is telling me to just stop making decisions altogether. That’s not working either, of course, because I have to make decisions all the time. It’s really the bigger ones that trouble me. And remembering my past… well, I’m afraid my decisions will be wrong. Again.
I’m putting off a phone call because I’m not sure if I should make it or not. Again… decisions.
I’m putting off another phone call that’s not such a big deal, but I hate the phone so even that is difficult. I don’t know how to ‘just do‘ things. I need someone to hold my hand… even though I’m a grown woman. It’s so stupid. Just pathetic.
I’ve tried to ‘fix‘ my boredom-that-makes-me-hopeless feeling. Some days I succeed… kind of. But it’s still a problem… especially in the morning. It’s hard because while I can think of things to do, none of them appeal to me. Nothing excites me anymore. Reading, writing, blogging, organizing, arty stuff. I haven’t been going for walks because the air is soup. Or it’s too hot for it to be remotely pleasant.
But aside from all of this… I guess I’m okay. I’m carrying on…
I haven’t really been around since last Wednesday. Not sure if anyone noticed, but I can understand if not—there have been huge gaps between my moments of presence here for a while now. I left town (ran away?) Thursday and Friday (more on that later… with pictures), but even when I got back, I just couldn’t be here. I did try to respond to comments, but I barely checked my email. I have over seventy email post notifications sitting in my inbox. Needless to say, I will not be reading all of those posts. I’m sorry.
I do hate my boredom but see above… blogging (writing or reading) hasn’t helped. For the first time since I started blogging nearly three years ago, I feel blah about it. But then, of course, I feel blah about everything lately.
However, if I’m not here posting or reading or both, I’m completely out of touch with you, my friends. It’s total isolation. That’s not my goal… but it is my end result anyway.
I will be painfully honest, as I always am… Part of my disappearance is that jealousy and inadequacy I often feel when I’m here. All I have posted for well over a month now are either silly pointless things [turkey] or posts like this one… droning on about my life and my emotions. Blah. Everyone else continues to post… lots and lots of things… some of you many times a day (and I can’t keep up). And then you get comments and you talk and laugh and have fun. I miss that. But I just don’t feel like I can join in. I guess I need someone to hold my hand.
I kind of feel dead inside. That expression always makes me laugh, but at the moment, it totally fits how I feel. Empty. Blah.
Why can’t I be more like Ice Bear? Just grab a hammer and smash the fuck out of anything that’s not working?
I’m trying to get myself excited about something. Anything. I need to have a giant flash of inspiration… the kind that makes me need to write immediately. But that’s not something I can force. It has to just happen. And it hasn’t. For, like, nearly a year. A fucking year. I think that inspiration has left me forever. But if I had it… if only I had it… I truly believe the boredom would subside… because I’d be so excited to write that I’d be doing it during every spare moment.
But I write about love. And maybe it’s become too difficult to write about love when I don’t have any (of the romantic man+woman kind) in my life. I need someone to hold my hand.
©2018 what sandra thinks