I’ve been so tired. Mentally? Physically? Emotionally? Yes, yes, and yes. At least I think that’s what it is. Words sometimes don’t mean much to me. I say I’m ok, but I’m not really. I say I’m ok, and sometimes I am. Communicating becomes such a chore…? A minefield?... A minefield of words. I step and it blows up on me. I step, and nothing happens… It’s just a dud.
Last night I went over to C’s for dinner. It’s been a while since I hung out with the family. I say “the family”, but it’s not MY family. It’s someone else’s family which I hang onto at times like a life buoy cast out to me from time to time. They include me sometimes. It’s not really up to me. Last night it just became more glaringly obvious to me where I was standing. I was standing on the sidelines, just waiting for my turn. I’m like that lousy player that doesn’t play when the score is down. I’m the player that gets tacked on if things are going good, so I can’t possibly screw up.
I guess I’ve known this for a while now, with C’s family. I’ve been spending less and less time there. More and more time on my own, in my own little isolation booth. There’s just less complications to process, less tearing apart of my soul, as if I can afford these things…..