I started training for my new job today. I should be really happy about it--it's going well so far, and I'm feeling a little more confident in my ability to handle this job after today, and I think I'm going to really like my coworkers.
But it's not what I WANT to be doing.
And this depression and anxiety are still nagging at me horribly. My husband and I are fighting a lot. I'm struggling to keep up with responsibilities. At one point yesterday I was so sad I couldn't bring myself to get off the couch. I'm not really staying in touch with anyone. I spend almost all of my time lying on the couch playing games on my phone.
My father-in-law is getting worse. He's got a hospital bed in the house now. They don't think he's going to last much longer. He's starting to have trouble following what's going on around him. He's down to just 108 pounds. He's getting really weak and all his hair is gone from the radiation.
Things are just hard. I'm doing my best to cope.
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On that note, part of my coping includes writing. Yesterday, after spending an hour flailing about with various ideas for poems to try to get some emotions out of me and only managing to write about 100 words that I was very unsatisfied with, I finally gave up and wrote a blog about my personal writing process. It felt good to get something accomplished.
If you want to read the blog, it is HERE. I tried and possibly failed to be funny, but I pretty successfully demonstrated what an ungodly mess my writing process is.