If someone asked me right now how I was doing, I wouldn’t be able to answer that question. “I don’t know,” I would have to reply. I’m feeling…weird. I have had no energy to put into blogging lately. My anxiety levels have been…also weird. I just don’t know what’s doing on with me right now.
My husband and I moved about two weeks ago. We absolutely love our new house. Our kitchen is fully unpacked and set up (yay!) and my office is mostly unpacked and usable.
Our basement/reck room is also almost fully unpacked. We decided to move our only couch and the TV down there because our upstairs living space is a bit…strangely shaped. An L-shaped couch wouldn’t fit properly in there. So, right now we either hang out in my office, the kitchen, or the basement. As soon as we get our first pay checks, we’re off to Ikea.
I am also taking a summer course. Somehow, I’ve managed to get A’s on both of my tests even though I’ve skipped all but half a lecture. I guess that’s what happens when you’re a sixth year sociology student taking a second year sociology class.
I’m also doing what I love right now – I’m editing, typesetting, and publishing a book my father-in-law wrote! This is honestly my dream job right here, and I love every second of it. If I could do this for the rest of my life, I would be the happiest person on earth!
From the above, you might wonder why I feel the way I do. And I still couldn’t tell you.
I’m worried about my health, as usual. The weird ear/eye sensations are still occurring at full force. I’m still fully convinced I have some sort of serious condition, probably a brain disease/tumour.
I have an appointment with an Ear, Nose, Throat Specialist in three weeks. I’m terrified.
I’ve been excessively focused on death lately. Last night, in the middle of a movie marathon with my husband, I burst out crying at the thought of death. The idea that death is “not if, but when” nearly threw me into a catatonic state. I shook, I cried, I stared at the ceiling for far too long, and I felt utterly hopeless.
Today, I feel weird. I feel a strange combination of nothing and everything matters.
On the one hand, I tell myself, “Life is short and unpredictable, why waste it worrying? Why worry about anything? Do what makes you happy! Have fun with your husband! Worship God! Buy a dog!”
On the other hand, I tell myself, “What is the point of anything? You could die five minutes from now. Life is hopeless and meaningless. Fun times with your husband are fleeting. God doesn’t care. A dog won’t make you happy.”
My mind has ping-pongged these two thoughts back and forth all day. I don’t know what to do.
I haven’t tried that medication yet. I want to. I desperately want to. It’s sitting on my dresser right now as I type this, untouched since I put it there almost two weeks ago. I’m horrified of the side-effects and I can’t work up the strength to just try them out.
Usually, writing these thoughts out makes me feel better…but my mood has gone downhill since I started this post just 20 minutes ago. I should probably stop writing, then.