Weekend for the Wounded


stress (Photo credit: giuseppesavo)

I’ve been especially melancholy and morose lately.  I thought I had great expectations for this weekend; I usually do.  Instead I spent the weekend, a little bit of Saturday and Sunday, nursing my wounded soul.  I don’t have an especially good reason to be wounded, just my life in general.

I’ve been so wounded because I maybe have some very bad news, or a bad circumstance, coming down the pike but I won’t know until later.  How much later, I don’t exactly know.  I should know part of the news by the end of this coming week.  The rest of the news, part two of the news, I’ll find out when I decided to fully investigate the situation.  I have yet to build the courage to do that.  I don’t know when I will.  I might at the end of the week, we will see.

I’m in the process of writing about some of this.  It is a very trying thing for me to do.  Actually everything as of late has been trying.  I do want to get a few things off my chest.  Why, I don’t know.  Somehow, this will be my therapy.  I will find a way to overcome all of this.  It is just obstacles.  Obstacles I have put in my own way.

My goal for this week is to be very productive.  To try to pull myself out of this melancholy spirit.  Only I am too afraid if the pendulum swings in the direction of which I fear I will only be knocked for a loop that will be all but impossible for my chemically imbalanced brain to conquer.


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