It’s June and I realize that, once again, another year is half gone and the goals and hopes that I had planned for this year (as simple as they are) are slipping through my fingers. And that is very hard to acknowledge.
This year has been mostly hard and terribly painful, physically, which can also make things hard emotionally. It’s called reactive depression. Everyone gets it.
I get tired of telling my husband how hard this is and how hard it feels, and it is way much harder to tell my friends and loved ones how much it hurts. So i don’t.
It can become quiet hard not being able to talk about your life and experiences. Imagine if you could tell no one your ups and downs or, even worse, no one wanted to know.
The feeling that the pages of your book are being torn away, day after day, no matter how much you try and fight against it by finding simple dreams and goals to hold on to, no matter how hard you try, it still keeps slipping between your fingers.
… So I have gone quiet.
I hope that one day I will have something to celebrate and something to share about going (insert place) or doing (insert activity) that will make life more meaningful and feel stronger. Anything at all would be feel amazing!… but until then I don’t think anyone wants to know the day to day pain and worsening challenges that have occupied so much of this year. So much of the past decades.
Every year is a year I take seriously. I am always trying to make life have some meaning and create some happy or joyful things, even with illnesses. I believe everyone with health issues does. When even those little things are taken from you it can be hard to describe their impact.
So I don’t. And I go quiet.
Sometimes the hardest things to say are the things you don’t say at all.