Restarts

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Wishful thinking on an overcast day

I’m not awake yet.

I have a “Morning Rituals” playlist on in Spotify. It’s surprisingly easy listening but with deep enough lyrics to keep me from dozing off.

I’ve severed a few ties since my last little photo diary thing. I’ve also had to deal with the abrupt increase in a medication. I’ve been so tired and rather panicky, I’ll admit, that simple reading commitments have gotten shoved onto the back burner.

It’s like… even when it’s someone you don’t need, someone who has repeatedly hurt you, you can form a bit of an addiction… and that takes time to recover from. Yesterday was the first day I didn’t look at the date that I broke it off—and he went immediately into denial—with a hit of sickness in my stomach.

…granted, I could still punch him.

Today’s the day I start reclaiming the little things. I raided the petty cash by an amount enough to get my hair professionally done as soon as I get a chance… I’ve seen a folding table that would perfectly replace a piece of the apartment I’ve been forced to live without… and I’ve been trying to get my sleep back on track.

The last couple years were a strange, dreamlike haze, the kind that you doubt the reality of but for a very long time have no solid reason to try to break apart—at least, until the one thing that is completely wrong happens and you have no choice, watching the pieces flutter downward.

… it’s probably better that I’m awake now.

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