So It Goes

So here I am. Not very bright and clever. But not lost. Working on a new keyboard, so clumsy. Much I'd like to say, but my hand goes to sleep and my butt aches. I wish my body felt better and worked better. Talking tires me, as does listening. I want to sleep and wish I had the energy to be awake. The hours pass slowly and I am beginning to realize that I am depressed. Dare I say it, Cheerful Charlie that I am? Depressed.

I have spent my life being optimistic and cheery and I have decided to let myself be unhappy here. I think that the more public my outcry the better it may do me, on the theory of not hiding a thing. So, prepare. For a while, I may just rant and rave.

What has this sickness cost me? Shall we start with my Hooligans? My soft, silky loves. Inky Pippin and wicked Merry? I will never again wake up with Pippin on my hip and Merry on my feet. Never. I feel so empty without my Hooligan boys. And they will never understand. One day I went out to breakfast and never came back. And they lost me and home and each other. They've been together since the womb, and now they are not. And I want to cry and scream and yell and carry on. My babies.

I know that they will adapt. One day they may not even remember me. But I'm not certain I'll ever recover. Yes, I know I will. But I don't feel like I ever will.



And I love them so much. I enjoyed their company and the soft warmth of their little beings. Merry cuddling on my chest and purring like all get along. Pippin looking me in the eye and knocking things off the desk. Very much on purpose. Sheer delight. How can I go on without them?