Writing is hard these days. With the lower carbohydrate intake my focus and concentration is heightened to the level of the ‘average’ person. So even though it’s better, it’s still not great. Where I struggle these days is a lack of desire or will. I cannot emphasise how low my will is to engage actively in anything. The thought of actually engaging feels like when Cinta was at her heaviest (8kg) and would sleep on my chest at night. My breaths are still regular but they are shallow and unsatisfying.
I’m filled with a sense of lethargy. I say sense as I don’t actually feel lethargic. My body fears movement, knowing the energy it will require. My mind resents the idea of small talk, knowing it is short bursts of unplanned, vague conversation. It resents conversation more however, unless the topic is announced beforehand so I have time to prepare. The thought of instigating conversation or being the one to hold and continue one never registers. On some level I fear losing the little breath I have.
Every morning I try as I might to go through the motions, flattening down the crusts of new walls which have built over night. Breakfast, pills, brush teeth. Nice underwear, stockings, dress and good shoes. Brush my hair, soft touches of make up, jewelry and a bow in my hair. I smile at my reflection telling it ‘I’m beautiful, today will be a good day, I deserve happiness’. I know it is true.
I text my parents and boyfriend, plus a different good friend each day. I call them nice names, give compliments and ask how they are. They do the same back to me. I read, write, clean, do art, listen to music, walk, sing and dance each day. My life is going well, I have every reason to be grateful, and I am. So much. There is no reason for me to feel this way. I just wish I could move this weight off my chest.