If I had a dollar, for every blog and post that ran through my mind every day, I wouldn’t have to ever think about working again. There is so much to say, and so much to share – it just never ends.

How do I explain how I got to where I am today?  I’m not talking about simple driving directions, I’m talking about all the roads, paths and decisions taken along the way that brought me, and my kids, to where I am today.

The room where I’m at right now is very quiet. I’m sitting on a lime green retro type couch, leaning against a bright yellow wall as a back rest. The fluorescent lights are really unforgiving, and reflect off the abstract purple art on the walls. Typing on my phone is a little challenging because I’m squinting from the glare.

All I really hear right now is the constant hum in my ears that never goes away. My body feels fine, but my eyes are incredibly heavy and even burn a little from being dry.

I feel numb right now. It’s the first time in awhile that I can’t even think. I don’t know what to say, and I definitely don’t even really know how I feel. Maybe I’m in shock?  Is this how that would feel?

I was in a session with my daughter, listening to questions on upcoming medical tests that need to be completed. When you’re living a dangerous lifestyle, I guess you know about these things. When I was her age, I didn’t even know what those words meant.

I always pick the chair facing the professional but a little behind the others in these meetings, because although I’ve trained myself not to react, sometimes a surprising expression comes across my face and gives way to what I’m really feeling or thinking. I could hear something and look completely neutral, and yet on the inside I’m shrieking “OMG!”.

I was asked to leave this meeting, once again. It doesn’t even bother me anymore. I get that people need privacy – even I wouldn’t feel comfortable with sharing in front of everyone.

Random thoughts run through my head while I wait. “Forgot my water bottle – I’m thirsty. Dull headache. …sigh…. This is taking longer than I thought. Hey, I can cross my legs – that’s cool. Is my double chin showing? (Inconspicuous chin scratch just to check – yup, still there).  Almost dinner time. Why do we have to cook anyways?  I wish subs didnt have bread and were free. Why is this taking so long?  ”

I’m not sure if there’s a whole lot more we can experience at this point. Is this rock bottom?  I’m being asked how I am, and what I’m doing for myself, and I really don’t have an answer for that.

What’s the point of this post? Perhaps there doesn’t need to be a point. I think sometimes I need to write to remind myself I’m still here. I’m alive. My kids are alive. It’s ok to feel nothing – it won’t always be this way.

We’ll be alright.