I’m not finding much motivation these days to do more than is necessary to get through the day. I get up, shower, dress, have breakfast, check on-line messages, pack my backpack, walk to work listening to music, log in to my computer at work, start work, go for a walk at lunch, walk home, wait for Jeffrey to get home, eat dinner, watch a movie or some TV then head to bed, usually by 8 or 9 pm.
This is, or has been, our routine for the last couple weeks. There is the odd visitor or a dinner out alone or with friends. We’ve seen a movie or two in the theater. We’ve run some errands here and there and done a few chores. But, for the most part, there is a constant lackluster to my day and life and we have become the consummate homebodies.
There’s a part of me that finds it comforting to be encompassed in the mundane and simplicity of routine and daily life, especially after all we’ve been through in the last few months. But part of me misses the excitement of a more active life, the busy social schedule, the people, plans and activities that once filled our life. More accurately, part of me misses the person I was when that was all something I did and wanted to do. Honestly, despite what I’ve said, I can’t truthfully say I’m ready to be back in such a flurry of activity. I don’t think I have enough energy to handle it or care enough to make it happen. I have become so emotionally complacent about everything that I can’t be bothered to care much about anything. I take whatever the day throws at me, handle it and then go to bed to start anew tomorrow. I take people’s words and promises with a grain of salt; I make no solid plans for the future and I haven’t the inspiration to work on or complete the multitude of creative projects I have started or used to enjoy (Drawing, crocheting, knitting.) Nothing really intrigues, excites or titillates me anymore. It’s as if my enthusiasm for everything and anything has just disappeared.
I don’t know if this is good or bad. On one hand, slowing down, at least for now, is a good thing for me emotionally and physically. I need the rest, peace and quiet. On the other hand, I’m worried that I have lost my passion for most things and that what I have become is a subdued shell of the person I once was. Maybe that’s not a bad thing. I’m 40, happily married, have a good and secure job, friends, clothes on my back and a roof over my head. I’m not unhappy nor am I depressed. I simply seem to have lost my drive to do more than my daily rut. Even blogging and interacting on-line is something I’m doing more out of habit than passion, to pass the time until I get through the day and go to bed.
It’s like I’m becoming someone different and I haven’t decided if I should fight it or give in to it.