Malaise

I actually had written most of a post about today, and how I'm trying not to give in so much to the anniversary blues...Unfortunately it turned into exactly that, and I'm just tired of it. I'm in...a "rut" doesn't describe it, really; it's more like "a Chicago-area main-street pothole in March after a full winter of freeze-thaw cycles and a bi-weekly parade of semi trucks." I hate that JP is gone, and I hate that I'm alone, and blah, blah, blah, haven't we been through all this before? I actually did spend the day trying to do stuff to improve my outlook a little; I did all the laundry--you would think one person wouldn't generate much laundry, but then again the person you're thinking of probably does her laundry more than once every six weeks or so--and I took apart my bedroom and vacuumed all the fluffy corners and dusted all the dusty stuff. My environment looks great; my attitude, not so much (though part of that has nothing to do with the anniversary and everything to do with The Godforsaken Itch. TGI has improved, yes--except for my back, and my shoulders, and behind my knees, and.... Finally today, I couldn't stand it anymore and called the allergist my doc referred me to; she said, and I quote, "No antihistamines for three days before your appointment, please." My appointment is Tuesday. Technically, I COULD take some tomorrow, but since I'm now out of Benadryl anyway, there doesn't seem to be much point. I hope I don't go completely insane by Tuesday morning--judging from today's scratch marks, it's a very real possibility.)

I'm tired of my rut, tired of my outlook, tired of my misery. I want to be happy. I want to feel normal--like I'm part of the human race for a change. I would like to have SOME hope that I could possibly attract a partner someday; that, maybe, most of all. I want to be able to look at all my wonderful options and all the great ideas I have, and actually FEEL something--excitement, hope, optimism, ANYTHING. Right now my life puts me to sleep, and I don't even know how to make that better. I know how fortunate I am, how blessed, how lucky--whatever you want to call it--but that knowledge doesn't really do me any good; sometimes, in fact, it makes it even worse. I've got all these things going for me, and I've been given so much...so why, again, am I so miserable?

Mostly I'm lonely, and tonight, at least, that makes sense. I can't believe it's thirteen years since I lost JP; it seems like a billion years, maybe, or maybe just a day or two. I'm amazed at how meaningless those thirteen years have been, how little I have to show for them--not materially, but emotionally. I try not to think about the next thirteen years, or the next. It scares me to think that this is really it--that the rest of my life is set up before me, no surprises--just more of the same. I don't think I could stand knowing that for certain.