I've got the January blues. Sometimes the first month of the year just gets me down.
I just feel like I can't think, like my life is a hurdle I'm supposed to leap over or something.
It doesn't have anything to do with the baby or the new responsibilities. That stuff is great. I love it.
It's the same old January pits I get almost every year. I just don't feel like I'm good enough for the life I've been given. Like I can't take two steps in the right direction. Like I just want to lock myself in a dark room and scream profanity or something. I hate it.
Maybe it's because at this point I can't see the future. I tend to take every year as the start of something new, and sometimes, instead of just enjoying the grace of the ride, something in me wants to sulk and try to misunderstand it. I have referred in this blog to this place in time as the lobby. I'm ready to leave the lobby. I just have to open the door and walk out.