I tend to push myself to the limit so I can sleep at night. I can be reflective, so I get it. I recognize what I am doing. If I keep busy, I feel like I am moving forward. One step at a time. Yet, I'm not. I'm stuck. It's like being a hamster on a wheel... running, running, running, yet not really moving or getting anywhere. When I finish one task, it's on to the next. I don't celebrate the "accomplishment", I check it off the list in my head and immediately roll on to what's next.
I resent what this house stands for. I don't want to do it anymore. It's exhausting. The emotional turmoil sucks the life out of me. I'm getting over the "it's not fair". It is what it is. What I am struggling with is dragging myself through the past to get ready for a hopefully brighter future. Spending money that I'd like to save for the future to fix things that should have been done long ago, weeding through things that represent a place and time that no longer exists, and making decisions based on what needs to just get done, rather than the dream of what "home" looked like in my mind.
I don't know how to change what is going on here. Today, I gave up. I stayed in my pajamas until three o'clock, read a smutty book, napped, and met up with my parents for dinner. If I can manage it, I may end the night with a bath, a glass of wine, and another trashy book. Now, I'm tired. Just tired. I'd like to say I want my "old life" back. But no, that's not right. I don't want to settle for a life half lived, I've done that for way too long. It's going to get better. I am okay. Breathe.
Sometimes I feel like I am hanging on by a thread. This is not the hardest thing I have ever done, but it's damn close.