If the research doesn't lie, the third of next month will be the last anticipated difficult day... let's not kid ourselves, couple of days, for quite some time. I am not ignorant enough to believe that rough days will become a thing of the past.
The unbearable July heat might have more accurately gauged my rage. August has a lot of potential on the horizon; several fun activities are planned to pass time while I continue to hunt for employment.
To start, the Atlanta Braves were in town for a three game series against the Washington Nationals. Had the Braves come out of the the series on top, maybe I would be more optimistic about the rest of the month? I had hoped spending the afternoon of the 3rd at the ballpark would make the marking of the 11 month bearable. Turns out, that is too much to ask for. I am trapped in a state where I constantly pretend to have fun. My enthusiasm for participating in activites I used to find fun is almost nonexistent. There are periods when time passes, only to realize, while reflecting, the particular day/event was pleasant, but there are many more that seem like a whole lot of work.
There is nothing worse than acting elemental--encouraging myself to smile, training myself to recollect how enjoyable these certain events used to be, and reminding myself to open up--unless you dare to label me as depressed. Seeing myself in this negative light is one ugly picture.
I have my work cut out for me.
This month "I will hold myself to a standard of grace. Not perfection." (Emily Ley)
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