Looking for that Anchor

I'm not completely unaware of my surroundings.  Everything around me lacks technicolor, true, but I'm still aware of what's here, and what's not here.  Having the awareness only changes how I approach any given task, every thought, every choice I have to make day to day.  Once I forego the usual self-talk and begin to listen to the silence the scenery changes a little.  But just a little.

Indifference continues to be the backdrop to life with T.  In a strange way, I've come about to a place where I'm more than okay with this.  He isn't going anywhere.  He's happy in his strange bliss.  He panics if I try to talk to him about how things really are, how I feel, what he's doing and how it affects my life in significant ways, and not good ways.  He panics in the sense that he isn't unhappy.  Weird, to me, how one person can be so unhappy while the other is... well, happy.  How does that even work?

Okay.  So I'm not going anywhere.  I do have times where I would give anything to be free of all of this.  And then there are times I'm happy.  Yes, yes.. it's not like I'm miserable 24/7 or anything.  Far from it.  I deal mostly with the AIH symptoms, the medication symptoms and withdrawal symptoms and all that involves.  But that's not what I'm talking about here.

I'm adrift and looking for an anchor to secure me in place.  I don't have my bearings right now.

So with 5% power left on this machine I'm leaving the conversation for another shot at it later, maybe when my thoughts are a little more cohesive.

....more coffee.  Yes, that's what I need right now.  More coffee....

I'll be back later, and hopefully I will make more sense than I have now. smh.