Sometime after my congestive heart failure happened, part of me changed. Something inside has darkened and I have become quiet. The job hunt continues, but it doesn't look good so far.
My health is much better, but my outlook on my life is not. The thought occurs often that I am ready to go home. I won't initiate that journey, it's not my decision to make. But I am tired and I hurt, and cry every day. This is no way for anyone to live and it's entirely my responsibility that my life has not gone the way it should have been.
There is a hell of sorts that comes to a person in the middle of the night when sleep is elusive. One realizes the damage done, and comes face to face with the demons. I can't go back and undo the damage, I can't make up for all the damage I did. Others have forgiven me, but I can't forgive myself, no matter how hard I try. This doesn't make me special or different from anyone, and no one is expected to "co-sign the bs".
But if I could go to sleep, it wouldn't be the worst that could happen.
Godspeed and keep the lighthouse in sight,
-beaglelover
