I realized today that I feel like a computer that has just been completely reformatted (rebooted? reprogrammed? I don’t speak computer, ironically). All of the bad feelings, like an army of computer viruses and worms and trojans, finally crashed my emotional processor last week, and leaving my job–and all the attendant expectations that have surrounded me for the last two years–was the only way I knew of reformatting. Now I have nothing but the basic operating system: breathe in and out, eat occasionally, sleep a lot. And now I have to reinstall certain programs. Serotonin, for starters. Pleasure. Hope. Faith. Love. Joy. Yesterday I wasn’t sure if feeling dead was an improvement over wanting to die, but maybe, just maybe, this is what Someone meant a month ago when I thought, “Perhaps I must die in order to live again.”
I don’t know how to write titles right now.