2 days at home

i haven't stepped out of the house in 2 days. that hasn't been so unusual for this month. but it's ok. I needed the down time. I needed to reaffirm who I am and why I exist and what the next route is.

I need a hobby. I used to live my life. In theatre your life is connected with your work. How else can I exist? Well, I have found out, all these months in chicago. The job I hate has translated into the life I hate.

So, what am I doing besides that life? Nothing. or I have started to paint. I will catch up with my many many penpals from my various adventures east. I might clean my room. I will begin to shift through the piles and piles of mess that depression has collected and throw out anything that ails me. I will be reborn this time. And if it takes drugs... so be it. The money means nothing to me anyway.

my life is a series of revised to-do lists and redefinitions of myself. each one regurgitated for the next ovulation. And my life has always been that quest for what I lack. for a big old void inside. But what if all this voided redefinition is really the transition into something real? I told a few friends in February that the way I felt, (although quite undefinable) was that I was at the top of a mountain--the edge of a cliff-- and yes, no guessing here... I am afraid to jump.

I've lost so much of who I used to be. Of who I loved and what I loved. I am disconnected with the woods and for the first summer of my adult life, have chosen not to rejuvenate myself for 3 months because of financial concerns. It was the right choice!!! That doesn't make me regret in any less.

I feel like each conversation I have with my friends are a series of sighs where they and I don't know what to say or know too much that tact stifles the flow of words. Why does it have to be so difficult? I can't bridge the gap anymore. Or my thoughts aren't coming through. i can't express anything that doesn't sound like a sitcom joke or a movie of the week: "Back pain, depression, major life issues, standing on the edge of it all, speaking through glass, la la la" who hasn't heard it. Depression has allowed me no compassion and an even smaller allowance of love, especially for myself. and so my cat, must truly be my best friend. Because I am not challenged, and so it has been this weekend:

BED, HEATING PAD, CATS, TV, WEBVAN, EFFEXOR

RINSE REPEAT

"i'm like a bird

i long to fly away

i don't know where my soul is

i don't know where my home is"