What’s the fucking point? I try to keep trying, but some days, I can’t see why I bother. I can’t see why I’d see another doctor. I can’t see why I’d try to keep doing the little things like running the dishwasher. Often, at the end of the day, I’ve squandered the day buying groceries, cooking a simple meal, often hockey pucks, and sludge, and I’m too tired to run the load of dishes let alone finish editing my book or taking a walk. Hell, sometimes I try to read a book and can’t understand it. I can’t see why I’m still breathing. Wouldn’t it be easier for me to drive off a road?
Some days, I feel my inner space. I think about planets and galaxies and curved space and time. I feel for the weight of the universe. I imagine the places in the world that are beautiful, without trash or crowds or the hazard of getting there. On other days, I’m just trying to find the words for putting away that food so it doesn’t turn green. This is fucking hard. I try not to complain every day, but I do. Mike reassures me he’s here with me every single day. Nick often comes out of his room and shows me a funny video and leans in for a hug.
I know I should keep trying, but it’s hard. I’ll admit it’s hard. I wonder at the point of trying.
I wanted to go swimming, but I’m too tired to get there…
…or to get home afterward. I want to sit in the sun, but when I get chilled, I shiver for hours afterward. I want to talk to friends but it’s exhausting to stay focused for too long. And they always stay too long if they even come to see me.
I wake up in the morning, bleary, and things I want to do pop into my mind, this and this and this. It’s going to be a good day. Then, I realize I’ll be lucky to do just this one thing. Grief is forgotten in the night. And how important is that one thing anyway? How important is trying?
Until I find out, I’m living for the moments Mike reaches over and silently touches my elbow. I’m living for Nick handing me his phone with another video of a silly cat.
I’m still trying to make a simple meal, despite the weight of the universe, or maybe because of it.
Thank you for listening, jules