Well, comfortably is probably a stretch. It is surprisingly hard to get involved with things these days, though. I am struggling to keep engaged with things that I used to enjoy, finding myself just not able to find the energy to get emotionally engaged in the sports I have loved, the hobbies I enjoyed, even playing games with my husband. I find myself retreating into reading a lot, mostly familiar stories by familiar authors I don’t have to put much effort into.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this, other than shouting into the wind, a bit. I understand that the problem is a spat with depression and anxiety, which mix together in an extremely unpleasant way, causing even small groups of good friends to be exhausting to be around. I’m sure it’s not particularly endearing from the outside, either. I’m quick to fall back on fatalism, anger, frustration, and despair, and I hate to show it, so there is a lot of forced smiles, the kind where after a couple seconds, you start to second guess what your face is doing… maybe you’re not smiling, just baring your teeth, you think, and the more you think it, the more fake it feels.

Of course there are things I SHOULD do for myself to help things. I should cut out the caffeine to see if it helps with the insomnia, but the caffeine helps me cope with the day when I didn’t get much sleep. I should call the doc and make an appointment, but I’m not ready to fight the anxiety the phone causes, let alone appointments and doctors offices. There’s something extremely terrifying about exposing your hurts to the world, especially when you can’t point to an obvious wound. I should get back to a gym, but I have so little energy that even getting home feels insurmountable, most days. Self-care is hard. Self-care when you’re actively fighting yourself is almost impossible.

So, for now, I’m trudging along, waiting for a break in the clouds so I can get dried off a little, and get my teeth into the corner of SOME problem. Once one thread gives, the rest will start to unravel, I know, but getting there is hard. Please know, though, that if I roll my eyes at you before I catch myself, or avoid eye contact, or am just generally surly and anti-social… It’s probably me, not you, and I don’t really mean it. It is really hard to be empathetic when you’re so wrapped in your own head, and I’m trying my best.