outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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life under a rock

I have nothing. I am nothing.

It is hard to explain why this is so difficult...perhaps because I don't feel like I should get to feel this way, because my problems are somehow not real.

Useless, invisible, unimportant.

I know how it looks from the outside, like I just sit on my ass all day and accomplish nothing. Well that's because that's exactly what it is. I hide from my life because I don't like what I see. I sit here alone all day, not mattering. The only person I talk to is G, and it's not her job to validate me constantly. So I hide. I go numb. I find ways to waste time.

G asked me what I would be doing today, and pointedly reminded me that there's a lot that needs to be done to get the house ready to be sold. I asked her, because I couldn't think of how else to respond, "is that what you think I do all day?" And she replied, truthfully enough, "no, I think you do nothing all day." I cried after she left for work. It's true, I do nothing, and doing nothing exhausts me. Even sleeping is exhausting. Trying to imagine having enough energy to, say, mow the lawn or vacuum or pack up dishes or paint the kitchen, alone...I can't.

I can understand why she would think that a suddenly-unemployed person might transition into a homemaker in her spare time; I would probably think the same in her position. And actually, she would probably do just fine if our positions were reversed. So what is wrong with me?

I'm not doing a good job of explaining myself. I feel like throwing up. See you later.

9:20 a.m. - 2014-08-14

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