UNmotivated

Maybe it's the cold. In Northern Minnesota today we'll be lucky if the wind chill breaks into the teens. I knew the cold was coming, but I'm hating it more than usual this year. It probably doesn't help that I've been about as stressed as a person could be. Things going wrong, breaking, bad luck abound and in abundance.

I have no motivation whosoever. I mean, none. I spent a week with an appointment for someone every day, driving to town, driving to other towns, and it wiped me out. Mentally. Physically. Just exhausted. The barely get out of bed kind of exhausted.

I don't mean to complain, but to explain why I haven't blogged in...well, a bit. Why I haven't written much at all.

NANOWRIMO...SNORT! Total mistake for me this year. I knew better. I don't write well when I'm pressured or under stress. I've always known that about myself. I shouldn't have even bothered. Was foolin' myself, I suppose.

It doesn't help that the two year anniversary of my sister's death is coming up in December. Two years. It's both been the longest two years of my life and yet the quickest, if that makes any sense. Hard to believe she's been gone for nearly two years.

Two years of no more whispered conversations between sisters, of a bond that time nor life could break, even though it tried. Hell, who am I foolin'. In the end, it won. They don't say life's a bitch for no reason. It certainly is.

Nearly two years later, I'm angrier about her death. About her leaving us, her leaving my nephew, her leaving me. I never got to say goodbye. I miss her. The "I'll never agains" bug me. I'll never again laugh at a lame joke she cracked. Never again admonish her for some embarrassing behavior, because sister's often embarrass each other, it's in the code.

Never again laugh despite myself, because only she could make something about me, usually something I don't want to admit even to myself, something embarrassing, funny. Sisters do that, I suppose. Allow us to laugh at ourselves because they know all those deep, dark secrets. They're our other half, after all. Not twins, but a bond unbreakable just the same.

When that tie is severed by a sudden and unexpected death the lone sibling is....lost. Left hanging like a thread on an unravelling sweater, waiting to be tugged and unwound, helpless to do anything to stop fate.

I spend so much time putting up a front. The strong one. The one in control. I was the oldest, after all. It's what I've always done. Taken care of others, even when I'm falling apart inside, unwinding, a tug at a time, fraying.

Writing about this. About my sister. Her loss, her life, her pain, the loss of her, our lives, our pain, and the never agains...

Maybe it'll help keep me sane. Maybe it'll help the pain. Maybe it'll help me make it through another year, another Christmas without her. Her son is growing into an incredible young man. He's been through so much, is going through so much still, but I know she'd be proud.

I guess that has to be enough.

So, I'll watch TV. Veg out. Sleep late. I'll ride this coaster of down and hope it takes me back up.

What do you do to draw yourself back when you feel yourself slipping into depression?

Thanks for listening, for reading, for allowing me to vent.

Taylor