There is nothing profound in this post. There is nothing thoughtful in this post. This post will most likely be full of my whining and questioning.
Why? Why? Why am I here?
Once again (because it's happened a zillion times over and over since I've been here starting in April) I find myself being swallowed up in a depression hole of meaningless suburban life. The only thing that's going to feel good is to cry myself to sleep tonight, or quit my job and move across the country to where most of my surroundings bring me life.
Every day I start to feel sick to my stomach and I can't pin it to anything other than my emotions manifesting themselves in my gut.
Every time I am invited to hang out with people who I could be making friendships with I pass to curl up in my bed.
Where a tidy room once was, there are now about four piles of clothes that I don't care to do anything about. Normally I love organization.
Normally I have more days to myself. But I felt like I had to push myself into some sort of transformation or growth since I am in the life-sucking suburbs, so now instead of ever actually having a day to rest and organize, I pack two meals a day and rush out the door after breakfast for different things I have committed myself to.
And when do I get a real vacation again? Next month. I am SO looking forward to it, but I can't live month-by-month. Weekend-to-weekend. Day off to day off.
I want to live fully every day. But right now it doesn't feel full in the right sense of the word. Full. Full means busy right now. What I want full to mean is life-giving. I don't see that happening. Tidbits of time with my family I feel life breathing itself back into me. But where is my life? What happened to it? What do I have to live for or look forward to? When am I going to get out of here? Every day hurts me a little more. Every day the pain in the pit of my stomach hurts. One of these days I wish I could really just get bed-ridden sick so I could take a few days off of this life and think about what the hell is it that I'm doing.
When I'm in Colorado everything feels right. I fit there like a missing piece to a puzzle. I love the air. The beauty. The colors of the trees. I love the seasons, the length of each season, I love the wild animals you can see running in the distance, or even close up. I love that bluegrass is everywhere. I love the people I know there. I love the people I don't know there. I love seeing a Westfalia nearly ever day. I love the way the dry air makes my hair feel softer. I love the long, sunny winters, and I love how much I hate the wind. I love that everyone has something out there. I love that everyone loves what they are doing with their life and where they are. I love that I love cloudy days THAT much more out there, and I love that I love Illinois THAT much more when I got to be but a visitor. I love that driving anywhere is a pleasure. I love that there is something to do no matter what when you are that close to the mountains. I love that I don't have to worry about tornadoes in the mountains. I love that everyone is so much more environmentally conscious by nature. I love that I feel so at home there.
I hate that I am so far away.
Today I feel just a little bit hopeless. That's no fun.
