flat

Its been a while. Life goes on. Some things change, and yet nothing really changes at all. Currently, the boy who tore my world apart and I speak here and there as friends, but my heart is always very guarded. I do not allow myself to feel things that will hurt me again. I stay quiet inside. I was unable to go to work for about a month due to the situation with my mom and being mentally unable to ... well, do anything some times.

But the reason I am currently writing: something strange has happened in my brain within the past 2 weeks.  My theory is that the breaking down of my mind has finally resulted in this strange truth: I can't feel anymore. Its a very strange feeling - or should I say, lack of feeling. I am curious as to the why I am like this. For the past 6 months I've been unable to watch tv, to read books, or to listen to music for fear of these activities evoking an emotional response. This week, I watched a movie, I listened to sad music... and nothing. I talked to my boy, and not much of anything. He also noticed I seemed "sad." At work, 3 separate people have asked me if something was wrong in the past 2 weeks. I felt fine at the time. At my church, a couple people have asked me. Two other friends have asked me on 3 different days. I started asking people what they meant when they asked, "Are you okay? Is something wrong?" after hearing it so many times. One of the girls at work said that I just looked like I was moving slowly. One of the ladies at my church said I looked troubled.

After discussing this with another close friend on the phone (he hasn't seen me), one possible conclusion is that I no longer walk around smiling all the time. Maybe I don't have the motivation/desire to fake smile anymore. Maybe I don't  feel a smile inside anymore. In fact, today I tried to be smiley just for the sake of it, and it felt very forced and difficult. My other theory is that my anti-depressant or anxiety medicine are causing a "flat affect."

I kind of wonder if I'm damaged and I have given up. I am existing, waiting for the end.  Instead of waiting in expectation, I'm just sitting in silence, passing time until I die or the world ends. I really don't care which. I really don't care about much. Just my kids. There is no hope for the future. There is nothing to look forward to. There is no happiness to be found. Maybe now I've finally accepted my fate, instead of fighting for a better future, hoping for happiness, hoping for something to happen that will fill my heart. It was a nice dream while it lasted, I suppose. Don't even really care about that anymore either. whatever.