Distance...

So...

I took a little vacation from blogging. That's not entirely the truth but it'll do for now.

I hadn't realized people were still checking up on this blog. Hadn't realized people still cared. Some do; most don't.

Half a year since I wrote last. I didn't stop writing, I just stopped writing here. I've dozens of abstract thoughts, angry rants, depressing missives scattered throughout my house on scraps of paper, in notebooks, on both my home and work computers.

So much has happened and so much has changed. I have changed.

I've lost my joy, lost my zest. I've become gray (grey? always got the two confused). Aside from the kids very little matters to me. I've developed medical problems galore; I've one of those rolling backpacks that I haul with me everywhere just to carry all my medications. A med for ulcers, a med for pain, a med for migraines, a muscle relaxer for back spasms and a sprained knee; countless other medications to counter the side effects from the others. I've a pill to sleep, another to keep me awake; one more to give me a mental "boost"; another for excess stomach acid.

It's nothing new. I've been at this point before. Times when I was so stressed I'd come home and just lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling or simply roll over onto my stomach and cry. Finances, stress, drama. I'm sick of it all. Jaalyn and Trinity get me through each day. At night, my assortment of prescription pills make me sleep and keep me from dreaming. Even in my dreams my worries haunt me. On the rare occasions I do dream in drugged sleep the dreams are so hilarious that they resemble a really bad sitcom. And then... when I wake and shed the thick veil of sleep that shrouds me and I once again pick up my usual packages: Stress, worry, anger and bitterness are my garbs of late.

I hate feeling like that. I hate being that way. The medications my doctor prescribes don't make my financial struggles end, they don't make the weight fall away. All it does is mask what's just beneath the surface.

At times, I feel the whole world is against me. I'm torn because I know I am blessed in so many ways: healthy kids, a good job, roof over my head, etc. And yet... bad things continue to happen. Unusual what-are-the-odds type of things. I try to remain positive. I try to keep my head up.

I'm tired. Of trying. Of everything. Of everyone.

All I want for Christmas is...

Peace.