termoil

I feel if you could turn me inside out, I might look like the aftermath of the battle field for World War 3. Even though on the outside I can appear unruffled, on the inside I am going beserk; my feelings and thoughts are wild and impetuous.

I am not myself, and haven't been for weeks. I've lost passion for food, friends, family, life, love, running, my dog and even God. I feel like my soul is slowly deteriorating with no hope of recovery. I felt like I was doing a good job of disguising my turmoil; one by one my friends have expressed their concerns to me. It has become clear to them that I am completely neglecting my social life, and that I have stopped feeling alive.

It is as if nothing matters to me anymore; I wasn't sure if I was going to have enough money to make my mortgage payment yesterday, but I didn't care enough to check my account balance... still don't know if I had/have enough. Should I care? Probably, but I don't. I cannot remember the last time I put pen to paper and wrote, nor can I remember a run where I ran for the love of running. It seems like everything I've done lately was for some logical reason, not simply for passion or joy.

A lot of the times I wonder if I think too much, if thinking could be my problem; I am forever pondering, questioning, inventing , and doubting things. I tried mediation several times and failed miserably. I was asked to write every thought that crossed my mind for fifteen minutes and not to bother with grammar, spelling or punctuation, and what a mess that was! After my thoughts poured onto the computer screen I took a few minutes to read and try to understand the jumble I created, if any of my friends would have shown that to me, I would have declared them crazy.

I know that I need to pick myself up, shake off the dust that has settled on me, and get on with it, but it seems like it might be a daunting task. Actually, scratch that. I have no idea what needs to happen. I am lost.