subject line: poor cycles



I could say that I’m trying to be okay.
But when I think about it for a solitary moment, my thoughts begin to make me honest again.

I’m not trying.

I’m just kind of sitting…in my mess, wishing I was okay but not really trying because trying would mean effort and I’m pretty bone dry empty of that stuff right now.
“Maybe later”, “let’s hangout soon”, “I’ll text/call you”, “I miss you too”, “I’m unfortunately busy”, “Something came up and I can’t make it”… The head of lines of my life to everyone close to me and anyone trying to be.

I’ve let sleep become my fortress as I sink back into the bed sheets “just once more,” I tell myself. And then once more again until it’s been a month and I’m still making plans, cancelling them and avoiding anything that requires effort.
My wardrobe consists of gym clothes that are hardly worked out in and dresses with a comfort level equivalent to a night gown. I couldn’t recall to you the last time that I was honest with myself or anyone about my hearts condition.

I could call it a season or I could call it a poor cycle.. I’m leaning more towards the latter these days.