Life from the Bottom

Sometimes it is necessary to make changes that are not easy but necessary. We fill our lives with things that weigh us down and slow us, usually with the best intentions. All other decisions seem hinged on these weightier items that have little merit. I've found myself there this week.

Friday I posted a blog on the Writer's Asylum blog that I was effectively dissolving the group. You can read it if you like. One member didn't receive it well but it isn't something I'm overly concerned about. I understand why she was upset but the reason for the group to exist simply disappeared. It no longer functioned. They can certainly keep meeting to chat if they like. But it isn't a writing group anymore.

I was relieved. Isn't that odd? Maybe not. It no longer provided me with an incentive to write. I've known that for several months. But I kept hoping the energy would return and we'd get back on track. When it didn't happen, I knew it was time to make a change. So, no more Writer's Asylum. 

I don't know if I'll look for another group or not. I don't think so. I am going to keep trying to work on my story. I may use the now free Thursday nights just for writing time. For now, several FB/NaNo friends are in my WRoE group. I'm not sure where that's going. We're meeting online and it's nice to talk with someone about writing but ultimately, I need to be writing and not just talking. That is what the WRoE is about, writing. 

The truth is that I am in an odd place where the things I have been interested in no longer appeal to me. I thought that maybe I need to move myself in a new direction. But change isn't easy for me. I don't like change. It makes me uncomfortable and stressed. Not all change is bad but it doesn't seem to matter where I'm concerned. I want things to stay as they were before. It is impossible. The nature of life is change. It comes whether you're prepared or not. I'm not. It's here. 

I went with my friend Carolyn to the Home Show yesterday and we went to lunch afterward. I saw lots of beautiful things for the house but unless I win a million they are just not going to appear. It was  a nice day but my hip simply gave me a horrible time as the day progressed. The concrete floors in the stadium are just bad on my back and legs. Once I got home I was so tired.

Today, Sunday, was a really terrible day. I felt awful when I got up, aching and hurting everywhere and I simply was exhausted. I watched some music videos and then had this terrible relapse and I cried for hours. I went back to bed at 3 p.m. and slept until nearly 6 p.m. I've been sitting in a chair all day. And I'm still tired. I'm headed for bed in just a few minutes.

I don't like living this way. It is not living. It is existing. There is not one day I can point to in the last three years that I was happy or content with my life. I can't single a day out as special or important. They are a blur that I can't actually remember much about unless I read the blogs. I have found that just sitting here and looking at stuff on the computer is acceptable and time passes without notice for the most part without any emotion interfering. It is an entertaining narcotic. I work hard. I come home and sit down and before I realize it it is bedtime. And another day arrives unnoticed. Time moves past without making any impact other than a sense of loss.

I still don't want to go out or see anyone much. Every trip is forced and tiring. I don't even want to leave the room I'm camped in at times. I could actually move the necessary items into one room and never go into the rest of the house unless I needed something. 

No one comes here very often but Mike. Even Sarah doesn't come over much anymore. But I've learned to adapt to the isolation relatively well. I no longer look for anyone to come. I no longer extend invitations and I find something to direct my attention to so I don't think about it. 

I'm thinking about disconnecting my land line all together. I have no real need for it. The only calls I get are from my children to ask for something. I have my cell. My aunt usually calls that. And that's all the calls that come in. If I could live on Jerry's pension, I'd quit my job tomorrow and never leave this house again. I wouldn't care. 

I had this realization today that if something happened to me here in the house and no one wanted something from me, I would not be found for days or until someone at work stared looking for me if it was a work day. That wouldn't happen until nearly noon and then they would just call the house. The boss might ask Carolyn and she'd try and get my kids but I doubt she has anyone's number anymore, they change them so often. If I was in the yard, no one would notice as there are no people ever around here.

I thought I should go and sit on the porch today. It was warm out and sunny and it seemed like a good idea. It required something from me I didn't have to give. So I stayed here, in front of the computer until I went to back to bed. 

For a moment today I considered calling and getting the t.v. cable reconnected but I know that if...when I do that, I really won't leave the house anymore. There won't be a need. I looked for possible vacation packages, even just a weekend away. I didn't do anything because I think I'm probably not  physically able to do the kind of things I'd enjoy. I see no sense on paying for a hotel room to just sit and watch t.v. in because I can't walk or I'm too tired. I even checked out a writer's workshop in Mobile, my hometown. I had no idea where to start and after a few minutes it was simply not of interest.

So I sat here and did nothing. I didn't read except stuff I ran across. I watched videos and t.v. shows. Oh and slept nearly 3 hrs. Now I'm going back to bed. I have to work tomorrow.