A Weariness that Reaches Into the Soul

Things are tough. I know that in proper perspective I have very little to really complain about. I know others in other places have different, more terrible circumstances, but I still feel the pressure of my personal life.

I've made a solemn vow to my father and to my students that I'd lose weight. I want to use the process to inspire and teach my class, but every time I start making progress and iron sheet of weariness, or a vortex of work and obligations bears down on me, breaking my will. I want to be healthy.

I've built my life, my identity around my art, and for 11 years I crafted my art around the relationship that I drew strength from. When my wife left me, all that art, over a decade of joy and care and growth as an artist, turned into poison that reaches deep into my heart, squeezing tightly every time I put pen to page. I feel as if the happiness and contentment I felt while drawing has fled, replaced by bitterness and a sense of failure and loss. I want to be an artist again.

My family broken and my health in decline. My hours consumed by work, trying to cover the bills left in my hands after being abandoned by the person I bet everything on. My core damaged so badly that my art no longer heals me. I want to be happy.

I just don't know what to do.

I will just try to remain afloat until some great spark of wisdom shocks me back to life. But staying strong is taking the last of my mental strength. I'm beginning to slip.