I have so much to do. I was supposed to get up everyday and do my yoga, and go to the gym to do my gerbil impression (treadmill), but somehow I have managed to avoid it, every. single. time. I say I will, but I never get around to it. I have really got to get past this feeling of just wanting to sit here, and do nothing. After all, want good is a promise you can’t keep to yourself? My schedule? blasted out of the water. I have only done one post this week, two, if you count this one. I am supposed to be writing more, and being more productive this year, but I find myself in the same lazy rut I was in last year. UGH!!! I hate this. This has got to be the worst feeling ever. It’s like I am stuck. No. Wait. That’s not it. I know what this is, and I have been fighting it ever since I got the call from my cousin. It’s depression. It’s back, and no matter how hard I have been fighting it, I think it’s finally got a hold of me.
You see, I try to be strong, too often I think that if I can just hold on a little longer, that I can everything to work out. Then, all it takes is one thing, I start falling apart.
There is this sweet little old lady that used to come into the gas station every Sunday. She used to give me a $20 bill for filling up her tank, and never took that much; so, she would have to come in for change. One Sunday, her car made it, with her daughter inside it, and not her. I asked about her. She told me her mom had a stroke. This was last year, when everything was cruising along at a nice clip. Then, last Saturday, she came into the store with her granddaughter. She stood there looking a little confused, and tried to say something. Nothing but a jumble of letters came out. I did everything I could not to fall apart. It worked, but you see, as she stood there, all I saw was my grandmother, and the fact that she can’t even stand without help. She won’t eat without being encouraged, and her lungs are only working at 85% percent capacity. My uncle says that she is acting like a child, but I know it’s because she feels as if she is a burden.
My mother, son, and I are going to see her on the 9th of Feb. The more I try my best not to dwell on it, the more I fall apart. I’m sorry. I can’t finish typing this… I’m crying too hard. God, please, give me the strength to face this.