off and running?

somewhere along the way in this crazy maze of life, i lost touch with the love inside me. my love for myself, my husband, my life... it seems sometimes that just taking a breath is an overwhelming task. loss of interest in work, in reading, in writing, in playing, in music, in speaking out loud...it all seems so mundane. writing for the sake of writing...forcing myself to pick up the pen, put it to paper and move, just to keep my mind working. otherwise i am afraid i may slip and fall... fall into the darkest places of depression...that place i haven't been since i was 19 then 23...now 30? will it come again? after a seven year hiatus?

in my mind i can see me curled up in bed...not wanting to get up. and every morning when i first open my eyes, i have an argument in my head...'get out of bed.' 'fuck you, i'm not going anywhere.' 'no, fuck you...get your ass out of bed.' and so it goes on and on until my legs move and my feet hit the ground...