I used to write all the time. In journals, blogs, forums, etc. At some point I stopped completely. Not sure why.

I am feeling the urge to write again, so here I am.

I’ve been having a lot of anxiety and a lot of nightmares. The other night I had a nightmare where my dad was dying. Not just sick like he is now, but actively dying. In the nightmare I was constantly crying. I kept waking up crying. I would go back to sleep, only to slip back into the same nightmare. In the morning I woke up physically sick and mentally exhausted.

I have been home from work for the last 3 days with a fever and sore throat. Idle hands are never good for me. Too much time to think.

Lately I have not been able to stop thinking about time. It feels like I am always running out of time. If I were to die tomorrow, would I be happy about how I spent today? On the days that I ask myself this question, the answer is usually no.

How do I get off this treadmill? I wouldn’t say I hate my job, but it certainly does not bring me joy.

I am working on finding my joy. I don’t want to regret how I spent my life like so many people do.