It seems not to matter what I do anymore. My biological clock has reset to be awake during these wee morning hours. So be it. At least, I can be productive now.
When I left group therapy almost as month ago, I was on a high. I had learned so much, connected with similarly-minded people. Sure, there were/are aspects of my life that needed changing, but still, I felt hope. It was a beautiful feeling. It was like an addiction.
I’m back in reality and it seems that high was fleeting. I long for it the way an addict long for a buzz. I miss that hopeful feeling. I feel myself slowly shutting down again. I take solace in the fact that writing it down is therapeutic and perhaps that will help me feel better.
It’s interesting what our individual “heroin” can be.
May all that has been reduced to noise in you become music again. I’m listening for the change from dissonance to harmony.