I’ve lost my joy.
My days just feel bleak as I sit on the sofa watching the hours pass by.
Each night I end my day with frustration, at all the time I let slip by me.
Minutes turned to hours where I’ve scrolled, slept or stared at a screen absorbing nothing.
My life is rushing past so fast but I’m no longer participating.
I have projects waiting. I have tasks that need doing. But my motivation has vanished.
Even things I would usually be passionate about spark nothing, no matter how desperately I wish it would.
I just feel hollow. A shell. I feel a darkness in my soul and it’s saturating me.
My husband is busy in his corner creating new enterprises, ways to bring money into the house.
He keeps seeking my approval of ideas and designs. Of how to be successful in these new passions he is embracing.
But I’m finding it so hard to give a care.
There is a part of me that is jealous. I want to be like him. I want to find passion. To lose myself into a project. To realise the day has passed by with something to show for it.
And occasionally some little glimmer does pass through my mind, but by the time I reach out to grasp at it, it’s already evaporated into whisps that are no longer coherent.
So I sit a few hours longer, berating myself for not reaching out sooner.
And the worst part is when my husband does seek my opinion I just don’t want to. I want to scream I don’t care. I want to tell him it makes no difference to me so I have no opinion, so just piss off and let me be.
But that is a cruel and unkind response.
Because I know he’s working on all of this for me.His idea started as a way to bring more money into the house so I could continue to allow myself time to heal.
And then he fed me crumbs, drip feeding little ideas of how this could work for me. For my own version of the businesses that I could get inspired by. And I tried, I really did. But the harder I tried the further away it felt, and in the void became resentment.
In 2005 I set up my first business.
I’d never seen myself as someone who would run their own enterprise, but with my then husband recovering from an accident and 2 small babies to care for, I needed a way to bring money in the house.
But the more successful the business became, the less interested my husband was.
And I resented him for that. I was doing it to improve life for all of us, but it was like he didn’t care how his accident had affected us all.
I think that contributed to the end of that relationship if I’m honest.
And now watching my new husband fighting and working so hard I can’t help but see the correlation.
And I’m desperately scared that he will begin to resent me for not sharing his passion or appreciating the hard work I know he is doing for us.
But right now, with this head, I just can’t fake it.
I want to open up my veins to let the darkness pour away in the hope that it will be replaced with joy and passion and light.
But the reality is it would pour so fast my soul would slip into eternal darkness.
I fight on another day. One hour at a time.
And despite how exhausting this fighting is, I hope, one day, I’ll find some joy again.