Broken

Maybe a good night’s sleep will help.

(Good night’s sleep happens, over and over, and still it hasn’t helped.)

* * * * *

Maybe things will get better with time.

(Time keeps ticking on and nothing’s looking any better.)

* * * * *

Maybe once I finish this task, or that other one, or that other other one, I’ll feel a load lifted off my shoulders.

(Those completed tasks depleted so much from me, I don’t have the wherewithal to rejoice.)

* * * * *

Maybe if I do something fun, I will reset myself and renew my outlook.

(Fun things don’t feel as fun as they used to. In order to do something fun, the fun has to be felt or it’s not technically a case of “having fun”.)

* * * * *

Maybe if I talk to some friends, I’ll feel better.

(Talking to a friend and talking with a friend aren’t the same thing. I don’t feel heard. I feel worse.)

* * * * *

Maybe if I get away alone for a few hours, I will return with a better outlook.

(I come back and I’m still here.)

* * * * *

Maybe if I keep talking to God about my pain, I will find peace.

(I am only reminded of how much I want to be out of this world and into His face-to-face presence.)

* * * * *

Maybe I need more water, more fresh greens, more sunshine. Maybe I need to run more.

Maybe I need less caffeine, less carbs, less rain.

Maybe I need less words.

Nothing’s working.

Maybe I need medication.

I’m sorry.

I don’t have the answers.