I haven’t written for awhile. I haven’t felt like speaking to anyone; I haven’t wanted to visit with anyone… (except for Mark, which of course is impossible.)
Over 2/3 of a year has now passed. It still seems about making it to the next day, the next week… I still don’t know what for. I spend much of my time alone outside of work, and am finding more and more that I don’t enjoy spending time with others. Their trivial complaints and nonsensical conceptions are as much endearing to me as they likely find my aloofness. My decreased desire for conversation is reinforced when they ask questions just to get me speaking. In the earlier months I appreciated their questions as a way to give me something else to focus on, whereas now it feels like an invasion of privacy (despite that I’m fairly certain it’s not… It’s likely what regular people do in conversations). Speaking everyday at work feels like enough, despite the epic emptiness and loneliness I feel constantly. I miss my best friend, my lover, my husband, at every moment of every day and night. This new life as one, just one, is…….. I don’t even know how to finish that sentence. It’s horrible. It’s shit. It’s fucked up. It’s lonely. It’s not what I bargained for. It’s not what we planned. It’s not…. It’s not.
Each day, each hour, I feel scared, powerful, broken, independent, lonely, committed, lost, blessed, shattered, loved, hated, strong, and decrepit. It’s exhausting. Physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. I know the only one who can help me is myself, yet some days I do not have the strength. I guess that’s where we have others to rely on. …then we’re back to the beginning, where I currently feel so antisocial that I have no desire to converse with anyone.