That's kind of what I look like, in between the anxiety and the rage, a fixed smile and far away gaze. Everything's great. Everything's ok. Everything's normal.
I am trying to care about the work I have done for 22 years. I even have been very focused about it, out of habit, it seems. Because I really don't care about it, right now. I could take time off and just sit at the ocean side. But that wouldn't change the experience of what is now normal, another loss. Another big loss. We all have them. That's well, normal.
I have even enjoyed myself a couple of times this last week or two. Normal. Except it seems, wrong, or not normal.
We all go through this at one time or another. We all go through it, a normalcy of loss and maybe a finding of a normalcy of meaning again. Getting closer. Ever closer. Am I making any sense?
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