A new painting is finished but as with everything I spend personal time on, its a simple idea is dragged out over weeks. I lose inspiration so quickly now. My full time job is draining me soulless. But that’s what we have to do. Another nobody having no real choice past choosing to survive. And I haven’t quite chosen that either. Though I am tired of not wanting my life. I’m tired of being without sustained motivation.
Thursday is the appointment with the new therapist. Already I’m worried about what might be expected of me. Maybe he’ll say I should be over needing this sort of help. Of maybe he’ll expect someone very distraught, tearful and clearly unwell. Whatever those expectations are, I just hope I don’t leave worse off than when I go in.