I've debated whether or not to make a post at all. Maily because I feel like such a procrastinator. I keep thinking about making a post and then don't, and then don't, and STILL don't. Mainly because I've been in this weird head space where I just don't feel like doing anything. Except read, do jigsaw puzzles or play solitaire on my Fire. If I was reading this from anyone else, I'd say it's depression. But I don't feel sad. I just feel blah and don't wanna do anything. I wait until the last possible moment to make phone calls or clean house or cook dinner. Haven't been out in the yard (but really, no one in Calif. gets out in their yards in August much). And most especially of all, I have done ZERO writing. Nada. Zilch. Empty. The worse part is, I don't even feel worried about my lack of drive. Oh woe is me.
I guess part of it is my natural tendency towards laziness, part post-stress from my mother's ordeal, and part recovery from being so ill. I am now back at either pre or post childbirth weight. It's been so long since I've weighed this little that I don't even remember. Normally I'd probably be happy as clam about weighing so close to my high school weight, except that my skin is hanging off my arms and legs and my clothes don't fit. Where before illness, they were getting too tight, now they're falling off of me. I start feeling stronger and better, and then I have an episode and I lose more weight. I am back at the gym -- a little bit, not quite back up to 3 days a week, and I miss yoga more often than I go, and my weights are still lowered by a bar.
Anyway. I don't know where it goes from here. I don't know if my desire to write will return or not. I fear it's gone. But mainly I'm hoping that I just really need this resting time, and eventually I'll bore myself right out of it.