(no subject)
The past few months have passed in a blurry mist. I awoke from this haze wondering how it was that I got back to the place I already know too well. It's strange how in an instant your life can change tracks. Without planning or even expecting it I am slowly falling into the life I never wanted to have. It's strange how we can adapt ourselves to any situation, we are slowly ebbed away so that the things we have to deal with don't become impossible to bear. I can't think about the drastic changes my life has taken or it will eat me up inside. I just take each day at a time. I guess the thing that scares me most is that little by little I adjust. I adapt. I conform. I am losing sight of a dream that was once so clear. Now when I think of it, it has already become a thought of what could have been. On those rare occasions that I do gain the courage to look back and ponder what went wrong I can't help but wonder, did I choose this, did I give up? It's all so foggy as if time stood still but something inside me whispers that it wasn't my sickness that brought me here but my own lack of will, my lack of strength. If I could have been tougher, could have perservered, I wouldn't be here fearing that I am purpetuating nothingness (E and Sarah know what I mean if you are even reading this). I haven't admited this to anyone, who could have known how I felt when I made the choice I did? All anyone knows is that I was sick and I had to leave but did I really have a choice? I can't help feeling like I gave up. I can't think about this because my contentment here is based on numbness. To feel anything would be too much.