Not quite sure when or how it happened. Slowly, over time, but yeah.
I have become a recluse.
I’m sick. I’m exhausted. I’m sad and depressed. This is so honest my heart hurts writing it.
My life has become a mundane routine of waking up, dropping my girl off at school and then off to various doctor appointments or other wretched obligations. I have a hair appointment tomorrow afternoon and I don’t want to go. I’m dreading it.
I’m dreading a hair appointment!
I crawl underneath my covers in a benzo haze and pray for sweet dreams. I wake up to a silent phone.
Where did my friends go? Where is my family? I’ve reached out. I have. They’re gettin’ busy livin’. And I’m getting busy dyin’.
Except for him. I love him. More than any man I’ve ever known. He wants to see me and I push him away. “I’m too sick” I say. I am sick. Physically. Emotionally. I don’t want him to see me like this.
He makes me feel ALIVE. Maybe that’s why I’ve been pulling away. I miss him so much my body aches. His voice. His scent. His laugh. His…
When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I fought so hard. I got busy livin’…not knowing if I would actually make it.
I made it.
When the divorce started, sick in my bones, I fought like a boxer. I won. I made it.
This winter was brutal, but I got up everyday, put on my face and got busy livin’. Spring is life. Life. Spring has arrived and I’m too busy dyin’ to LIVE.
I’ve never felt this way before. If it wasn’t for my girl, Oh My God, I’d spend my life in bed. Throw away this phone that I’m writing this from and wither away.
I want to say these feelings will pass, but they’re not feelings. They’ve become a way of life.
I don’t want to lay down and die. That’s not me! I’m a fighter! I’m fun! I’m happy. I used to be.
I gotta get busy livin’, man, because dying, dying is way too easy.