My therapist says...

Are you getting tired of reading that? heh.

Working though crap in my head lends itself to a very selfish inward attention. I don't know how else to describe it. Right now, I am having a hard time empathizing with anyone. I feel incredibly disconnected and lonely, even though I know all I have to do is pick up the phone and call any one of a million people. I just don't know what to say, and the idea of hanging out hold zero appeal.

What I'd LIKE to do tomorrow is be zen and clean, clean, clean. I'd like to feel good about accomplishing stuff and I'd like to look around the house with satisfaction. It's been a long time since I really did that.

It's going to be hot again tomorrow...mid-90s and humid. I don't like that kind of heat. It squelches my motivation. *sigh*

So, I'm back to pondering my precarious sense of self and wondering if I will ever be not-broken. Between my physical complaints and my mental complications, I'm kinda doubting it.

My therapist says don't think about it. Reserve such contemplations for therapy. I wonder if she realizes how impossible that is?