Where’s the Fun?

I’m learning the hard way that social life can be weird while working at home. I miss so many of my friends, but I can’t see everyone, because my groups are too varied, and I can’t go to everything. It sucks.

Working at home makes my schedule more flexible, but it doesn’t mean I get to work less. I’m still spending between six and ten hours working. I get to see my family, but I also have to put headphones on and ignore them for hours while I work. It’s great, though, because I can take a break, hug my kids, talk to them about school, and go back to work. I’m more involved, even if it slows my day down. Totally worth it.

Having fun still feels weird. George died less than a week after I left my office. I’ve been working because, well, work, but I’ve not been going out. I feel guilty when I spend time playing games. I feel guilty when I tell jokes. I am ashamed to have fun when he’s not here.

It’s not rational. It’s not healthy. My therapist, doctors, Jenny, and I are working on it together. George’s passing wasn’t anyone’s fault. He’d be pissed if he knew I was not having fun. He’d literally shake his finger in my face, and tell me to stop it. I am trying. I’m just not there yet.

Until I am, please know I’m not ignoring anyone on purpose. I’m hiding from everyone by default. Feel free to reach out. I love you guys. I just don’t know where to start having fun again.

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