I wish it wasn't so difficult to get through something like this. I keep telling myself: Just because it's hard doesn't mean it's not right. But that doesn't take away the pain. It still hurts a lot.
And it still drains me. I am emotionally exhuasted; half the time I'm coasting through the day. I don't care about cleaning the house like I used to or doing a load of laundry until I have to. I don't care about picking out cute outfits for work, accessorizing or make up. I pull on one of a few go-to outfits, comfortable shoes, dust on some powder and blush and I'm done. I coast through the day at work making sure I get my work done on time and with a smile, but all the while I'm just a shell of a person ... I try to make sure it's not painfully obvious that I'm struggling, I'm hurting and I'm not even sure what to do anymore. But I don't think it's working; I am sure that everyone can tell when I have an 'off' day and that something is wrong with Natalie but they don't want to say anything because ... well, this is work; we don't have lives apart from work.
My brain is tired and sometimes doesn't want to be present. But I push through. And I'm tired.
I push and push and push so hard that I make myself sick. Last week I spent a day feeling miserable at work. I was sure it would pass. I went to sleep hoping for a better day but woke up feeling just as sick. Nauseous, achy and worn out like I hadn't just woken from 7 hours of sleep; like I hadn't gotten any rest at all and was next to worthless for a day of work. I spent the entire day at the office hurting in so many ways, fighting back years, and realizing that perhaps the stress and ache and strain of so much change and so much hurt and so much misunderstanding and so much effort had left me sapped and empty and physically ill. I realized that shouldn't come as a surprise. But it still sucks. And it still hurts. And I still have so far to go.
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