I have spent most of the past year in a chrysalis of grief, fear, and overwhelm. I have been depressed and in stasis and have done only what was absolutely necessary to keep myself employed and housed more often than not. It has been a trying year. I did not want my life to grind to a halt, but it seemed as though I had no other options.
I am beginning to have a glimmer of hope. I bought a large stack of books tonight. I spent hours on Sunday tearing weeds out of beds and pots in my back yard so that I can plant things and over the past couple of days I have been contemplating what to plant.
The money I have spent on meals out over the past year because I have not had the energy or inclination to keep food in the house has been substantial. I have always been a reader, but I have read very few books recently, and the ones I have read have taken a while. I used my back yard maybe twice last summer; part of the reason I wanted a house of my own was to be able to take advantage of an outdoor space of my own.
I don't expect my life to come flooding back all at once. There are still too many unwashed dishes in my sink at any given moment. Cooking is a distant memory most of the time. Many evenings I continue to come home and immediately crawl into bed and stay there until morning. The difference is that now there are other things calling for my attention and I am finally willing to give it to them again.
I'm looking forward to being me again, and I think most of the people in my life are as well.