I feel tired and dispirited. I know that I have so many things to be thankful for. But somehow I can't drive away the feelings. I realise I am just drifting along, doing nothing really worthwhile, and nothing that makes me feel like the day is an adventure. I flog myself to keep going, to stay in the moment so that I can carry on doing what I must do. The lack of feeling inside sweeps through me now and then, though I try hard to keep it at bay. So often I wonder why I'm alive. Then the analytical, intellectual part of me takes over--the one who learnt all the counselling and has read so much about all that--and tells myself about the worthwhile things I'm doing. But it still doesn't cut into the heart of me. Of course I must be thankful that the deadness inside of me is no longer as bad as it used to be some years back. But when the feeling sweeps through once in a while, it just makes me want to be not alive any more.
Nobody really writes about things like this on their blog. I also realise that my blog is boring because I feel dead inside and so cannot bring any passion into my writing. Maybe I shouldn't blog again till I can feel some passion.