This week has been fairly quiet. Which is good. I stayed home, did some homework, binged Netflix, and read a short devotional here and there. I wasn’t itching for people or to go out. I wasn’t bored out of my mind because my mind was busy. But then again, it’s always busy up there.
Then the fog descended. A little trigger leading from thought to thought to thought. Just faster and faster. The overarching theme? I feel like I’m incapable of doing anything. I went from the college me, holding down a 20+ hour job at an office, doing ministry work, full-time school, extra classes outside, volunteer stuff, to this post-grad me, doing absolutely nothing. I’m scared of failure. And I’m scared of not being mentally stable enough to commit to any job or school or even volunteer work. But maybe that’s an excuse for my fear of failure (which I know is a stupid fear). It deters me from finding part time work or studying harder or preparing for my interview next week. Suddenly, I can’t even get out of bed. It took a lot just to move or walk the dog. I’ve fallen into slothfulness, and I feel pathetic. And alas, the guilt. I feel guilty and ashamed because I don’t want to stay still and I want to move. I feel like I owe my parents to at least go forward. And for some reason, that makes it harder to keep going.
Breathe. Focus on the positive. Look for hope. It’s getting harder.
Sometimes, people ask me how I am. I don’t have an answer.
All defaults because there’s nothing better to say. Or sometimes I’m a little more honest and I say, “I don’t know how to answer that” because I really don’t. Most of the time, that is met with silence because the other party doesn’t know how to respond. They’re uncomfortable. And again, it’s somehow my fault.
Caution: Don’t ask a question if you’re not ready for the answer.
But thanks for asking, I guess.