I am

I am exhausted.

My left wrist hurts like a son of a gun, and there is still so much left to do on the computer, but somehow I doubt that's entirely why I feel exhausted.

I am just tired. It feels like so much is happening. Work, school, terminating therapy, being in a relationship with Rob, keeping in touch with friends, stuff to read, bills, taking care of my car, figuring out a budget.

Yet, I doubt that's why that's entirely why I feel exhausted.

I feel exhausted, I suspect, because on some level I don't know what I am doing all this for.

Without meaning, how do we sustain ourselves? I can see why so many become Christians. On some level, we all wish and hope for an all powerful diety to assign meaning to our lives. Tempting, but I feel no connection to that realm of experiences. I seek faith, but not from organized religions. I refute the infantile mental position of bowing to an all powerful figure. That can be a part of the process, but not the whole process.

So much so, I still feel exhausted. What is the meaning of my life? I feel so disconnected. Human doings. Hopeless.

Still.