There is so much I could be writing about. My mind is full, but the words won't come.
I struggle so much these days with feeling happy. Or really, with feeling anything at all. Most winters I'm down-and-out with depression...this winter [the worst one we've had in, like 78 years] is different.
I don't feel depressed.
I just don't feel.
I have been the biggest hermit this winter that I have ever been. Getting to Bible Study every other week, church on Sundays and suppers at my parents' place is about as much socializing as I do. By choice, anyway.
If you have felt me ignoring you this winter - trust me, it's not you. And you're not the only one. And it's not so much that I'm ignoring you as I just can't break free of the empty void of emotions. You'd think that if there is nothing, that it can't hold me captive. Yet it's the opposite. The lack of emotions is keeping me locked up in a prison.
Every once in awhile, my mind seems to let me out on parole for good behavior (or something like that)...but I guess I end up violating the terms and I get shuttled right back.
I should be happy that I'm not depressed. And I should be worried that I'm not happy. And I should be angry that I'm being held prisoner.
But I'm not.
And I'm not even really all that sad.
But I am empty.
And maybe that's a feeling in itself. A feeling that stems from the fear that makes me think that feeling nothing is better than feeling depressed or sad or angry...
I'm thinking that things will change when spring actually comes [weather-wise, that is - not just calendar-wise]. And that the spring thaw will not only melt the snow, but will melt away my empty void.
And that underneath the puddles there will be a deep well full of emotions aplenty. And that I will regain the strength to pull them from the well and claim them as my own once again.