Sometimes I feel


…like not writing at all.  I have noticed that more and more I think about writing and I’m just “meh” ion wanna do that not now, maybe not ever.  I used to want to write a book, a sexy novel about people who look like me.  I don’t have the drive to do that anymore.  It’s simply not on my radar. 

My life is so very different right now.  I try not to be all dramatic but I feel daily I’m fighting for my Plan A…the things I wish for God to grant me.  I feel like I’m fighting for the marriage I want (not sure how that’s going) and the career I want (something I can have some control over).  I also feel like The Mister isn’t really ready to do the work, he just wants it to be.  I can’t really fault him for that, it feels like failure in small increments to me.  *sigh*

We found out officially he will be getting his promotion.  I’m so proud of him, but a part of me feel so damn dead on the inside.  Like there is no joy.  Who the fuck stole my joy?  I don’t find joy in many things and it’s not the slippery slope of darkness of my past depression.  It doesn’t feel like that.  I just feel…well nothing.  No true sadness, no true joy, no true anything.  Perhaps this is another form of depression…oh goody a NEW depression! *sarcasm*

I told The Mister we need to do individual counseling, he has things going on with him that HE needs to address.

This is only 1/2 a post as I plan to go to the gym for cybex ( oh how I love that elliptical machine) and Zumba!   and I’m off!  

While I have lost my joy, my sex drive and part of my heart…I still find laughter…that’s a start I guess!


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