the in-between

lackluster

ironically enough, someone just asked this question the day before: if you’re in the shower for half an hour, what are you actually doing in there? are you okay?” to which I responded: if I’m in the shower for that long, I’m probably asking myself the same question: am I okay? and if I’m not, expect me to be in there for another 15 minutes trying to figure out why”

so today, when I finally climbed out of bed around 12:30p and stood in the shower for what I thought was about 20 minutes but was closer to 45, the question popped into my head again. obviously, I was not okay. it’s not like my kids just let me stay in bed until 12:30 in the afternoon, I just couldn’t function. I got up one time at 7:45a to get my son up for school and climbed back under the covers for 5 more hours. not sleeping, just laying there — feeling numb, and broken and useless.

thank God for my SO and my grandmother, who stepped up and kept the littlest human busy while mommy was trying to just .. be. be everything. be something. be anything but nothing.

nothing.

nothing is what I felt. nothing is what I was in those moments where I couldn’t find the light that was trying to break through the darkness in my heart and my mind. consumed by it, this nothing.

how is it possible to be consumed by nothing.

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