the bare truth

I'm in the middle of worrying about how long I can continue doing what I'm doing.  I'm in the middle, meaning, for quite some time now, during quiet moments when I'm not in it, I actually see how ridiculous this all is.  It's been going on for some time now, so I must be in the middle of it.  And during these separate-from-workday moments, I think, "How the heck are you still functioning at all?"  "Are you crazy???"  "You must be crazy."

I try not to blog about it.  I try not to journal about it.  Not because I want to suppress it and pretend that everything is okay, but because I simply cannot think about work for even longer during the day than I already do.  I would be crying all the time.  And I don't have time to cry all the time.  I don't have the energy.  I stumble around in a half-alive state all the time; my anxiety so high and no energy left for relationships or artistic expression or even a movie at the end of the day.  I don't sleep because I can't sleep. 

I am in the middle of setting a goal and it will be hard, but I am going to make it.

{polaroid:  i want to be like scarlet and stay in bed all day}

© kimberly k taylor