The Battle Continues
November 10th, 2019
I feel sad — and am searching for why. Honestly, I feel like people have forgotten about me, which sounds unbelievably selfish to even express, yet such is my raw emotional truth. Putting words to these unhappy and wholly unfamiliar thoughts is difficult, revealing and somewhat scary. Removed from society, friends and community while I recover, I am losing battle after battle physically and mentally, amid deep misery, profound melancholy, painful mourning for the life I once knew, which I sense slipping away without possessing agency or ability to change trajectory. I wrestle with needing to heal at my body’s own pace and feeling the world pass me by; coping with solitude and requiring human connection; ongoing harrowing medical complications and harnessing even projecting strength; overwhelmed struggle and discovery of meaning; trying everything and sheer surrender to the universe and uncertainty; critical rest and terrifying stagnancy. Despite my best attempts to lean into the slivers of positivity, count my abundant blessings, recognize healing progress, and focus on this moment, today, the near future, a somber gloom has taken hold with a vengeance. I resist overly simplistic labels to explain away the complexity of what I am feeling, facing, experiencing and enduring — and it’s not like me to be dispirited, downhearted or despondent, yet I continually find myself unable to escape the sensations of being left alone, anxious and afraid. Downright, unglorified, cold hard sadness is the dominant emotion of late.