I've tried to write a blogpost multiple times in the past week but all of my words just feel heavy and wrong. The truth is that my soul is stirring again but in a language I do not understand. I recently looked at the future self I am always striving towards and realised she is no longer the person I want to be. I don't know enough about who I am to know who I wish to become.
There has been a lot of darkness interspersed with periods of light. Lows that were lower than I thought I could experience. Weeks filled with white noise and little else. There is a tall and unstable pile of books beside my bed which have only a couple of pages read each; my focus having fallen so greatly that I don't want to read those books as much as I wish I'd already finished them. I feel like I've been asleep, walking through fog, everything existing only on the outer edges of my consciousness.
I think I'm ever so slowly waking up into a world I have to rebuild from scratch. I don't know what that means or how to do it. I'm just trying to exist quietly inside each moment and learn from the days that just keep coming, trying to learn myself anew. Life seems so bizarre.
