Drowsiness and difficulty to concentrate greeted me energetically yesterday. Hugged me even. Wide smile after the almost 2 weeks apart. I tried to set into my old ways around them: fight through it. Don’t fall asleep. Count the hours. Wish for a soft bed. Damn it, this hard flood would do. Get a coffee. Chat about things I don’t care about with co workers. Eat something. Etc.

But then I just snapped. I just couldn’t suffer through that same beaten path. I gave up, told a co-worker I felt bad and headed home. Four hours of sleep later, emotional numbeness joined the team as I woke up.

As I told my husband… I just didn’t care anymore, right there and then. I won’t try and think what exhausted me, or was it depression or what. I just don’t care, I wanted to shut off and so I did.

Felt dangerous too. How easy it was to suddenly give up. How lonely that I feel like I ran out of explanations to have people around me understand how tired I am, and how terrifying I cannot explain it either.

The loss of control is terrifying, but I can’t tell anyone. Those I love would feel heartbroken and those I don’t wouldn’t care. Blogging and reading others is the closest to a sincere telling of what goes on as I can get. At least I have that.


When a beloved stranger dies


I received terrible news this morning. A dear friend I have never met face to face has passed away, after battling with disease. It hurts so much. I cry for a person I never had a chance to hug and say “thank you”.

My life would be completely different if it wasn’t for her. She is one of the big reasons my husband and I met.

She loved Christmas, and it breaks my heart to think she was probably not well enough to do all the crochet and crafting and cooking she did for her loved ones. That she passed away during her favorite time of the year.

She was always the sweetest person to all of us in our little online gaming guild. Keeping people together, making sure everyone had fun. Trying to create an environment of fairness into an unfair world. That little corner online we met and had fun. Our “online mom”.

She was the first person to ever point out my arrogance and wrong perception regarding intelligence. “Not everyone is as intelligent as you are!” she exclaimed to me, in text, after I complained about a fellow player’s performance and lack of understanding. I will never forget, because I always bring that to mind to remind myself to be kind to others and remember we are all at different levels on different subjects.

I would probably never have known of her passing if I hadn’t opened Facebook, which I seldom do. Now I’m just so afraid that others I know through the internet could vanish without me knowing what happened. So afraid I’ll regret not reaching out to people because I am trying to care to my own confusing brain these past months.

I suppose there is no comfort anywhere right now, other than time. I miss you dearly Rhilinia.