If my life were a marathon, this would be the point where the runner realizes that he's past his endurance point and all he can do is ignore the pain while hoping that the finish is around the next bend in the road. Like this runner has to convince himself that it's worth it to put another foot in front of the other, similarly I have to convince myself that it's worth it to get up each morning, that it's worth it to work, that it's worth it to eat and drink.
The next bend I see coming up is this appointment on Monday and I find myself praying that it means the end of this struggle. What if I round this bend and there's no finish again? Will I be able to continue, in the hope that the finish will be around the next bend in the road?
Pieter has picked this moment to start dating a woman, which really messes with my head as my emotional side with all its traumas refuses to acknowledge or accept this. Yet I would have had to take distance from him anyway as I'll be living on my own starting next year. Assuming I'm still alive by then, of course.
What reason did I have this morning to get out of bed? None, really. I had some serious emotional breakdowns shortly after waking up, woke up Pieter with my bawling, had a long talk which doesn't feel like it has really calmed down my emotional side, and my nerves feel so taut they could snap at any moment. Oh, and there's still this voice urging me to just stop running, to give up this marathon and simply admit defeat. I have tried long enough. It's okay now.
Two more days? Maybe I'll actually make it. I sure hope there's a finish after this bend...