Guess who’s back sellin’ that shake like seizure?
It was brought to my attention recently, both by a dear friend and sort of by myself, that maybe all this writing about adoption isn’t about the best idea.
I’m incredibly depressed lately, but only in fits. Like last night when I was overcome by god knows what and decided that the first thing I should do today is add beneficiaries to all of my accounts. And make sure to pay my credit cards all the way off. And throw away anything ‘incriminating’, even though I suppose it won’t matter.
I have that ‘I don’t want to do this there is nothing here and I don’t have to participate if I don’t want and you can’t make me’ attitude.
It’s not made any better by the fact that a) my back pain has come back and I’d say it’s just as bad as before, and b) my job is just…I’m beyond hating it because I never wanted to be here to begin with, but it was better than going back to Ohio or being homeless or doing whatever I’d have done otherwise. I guess.
I’m apathetic and indifferent and very happy when I’m not either of those two things.
It’s time for big decisions, big changes, big honesty.
As for adoption, I don’t know what I’m going to do about that, about writing and about being.