This morning, I got out of bed as soon as my fiancé delivered my wake up call- as asked him to hold on as I labored out of bed, stumbled down the stairs, and started the kettle.
I wanted to get out of the cocoon of blankets, get vertical, infuse the first day’s caffeine.
I’m still depressed, still hurting, still dulled by years of sleep troubles.
But God, I’m trying.
Daily I wish for a peaceful and speedy death.
Joyless day after joyless day continues to count up.
Listening to TED talks with titles such as “How to be Happy”, devising lists of things to do to reset my mind- “smile first thing in the morning”
I know I’m not the only one like this and I hate being like this
I hope your day is better friend