dragging myself into life

every day i wake up about 30 minutes to an hour before my alarm is set to go off. i open my eyes, take in a breath and exhale a sigh. i know that life is calling to me to move out of my bed, outside of my room, and i, frankly, would prefer to have none of it. i know this is a phenomenon that is not unique to me and is likely quite a common experience. we certainly all have those times that are more like this than others. usually though there are at least some days interspersed in a given week to which we respond with enthusiasm and excitement. something is happening that day that just makes us want to get going and get to it. not for me.

for months now, the pattern of dragging myself into life, rather than being propelled, has been my daily mode of existence -- every single day. now at least during the work week, there is enough activity to keep me going at a good pace. evenings and weekends particularly i find myself back to my room and my bed more often than not, questioning, as i wait for sleep to claim me (often aided by some medication), how in the world am i possibly going to do this life thing for one more day.

i've just realized that the last time i had a moment in which i awoke to a day with excitement or enthusiasm occurred the friday of that fateful weekend in chicago in late fall of last year when i was going to be meeting s.r. in person for the first (and as of last count there's only been two such meetings) time. i'm sure that has something to do with why i clung to the hope for so long that we would see each other again. such a visit at least presented some opportunity that i could have some semblance of connection in this world and even a momentary break from the isolation i'm experiencing.

now the astute observer will notice a hint of the past tense with respect to my characterization of the desire to meet up with s.r. again. i had asked him about that possibility over the course of a few months and at first it was "well that should work" in response to a given time frame that i would propose and then it never did. and then it got to the place that i said i'd stop asking because it was frankly deflating and humiliating (my ego was already pretty battered from the failure of my relationship with michael, asking and being continually rejected just seemed to be adding fresh bruises).

in a recent conversation there was mention on his part of something being possible "after winter." while i would be lying if i said i took much confidence in that prediction, today i'm feeling particularly low about the prospects and wondering that at this point, after all this time, if the invitation were even proffered, would i just find myself dragging myself into that situation as i've been doing with every other one in life. this is not a good way to live. well, it's not living at all.