I have been in a funk all morning. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I just want to lie or stare into space and think about River, Mark, home. I have the song in my head, “I wanna go home.” I do. I’m not happy here. I like my family and my home and I feel lucky to have them.
I think I’m depressed. I’m able to deal when I’m at an event or speaking with someone. But as soon as it’s over, I feel a heavy weight and sadness. It’s difficult to think of anything beyond my desire to want to go home. I repeatedly count down to the date I’ll arrive and look forward to it as a magic day.
I contacted the airlines to find out the options for changing my ticket. I feel like I’m not fully engaging with people here, that I’m not fully present, that I’m just thinking of my baby and wanting to go see him.
I keep my computer clock set at the time at home, so I can try to imagine what River is up to. I feel left out by not knowing what is happening in River’s life. Mark says not to worry about them and to enjoy my time and freedom. Unfortunately, it’s just not happening. I think it might be better if I was somewhere tropical. I think that living alone in an isolated place doesn’t help. I think that not having a TV definitely plays a factor. I feel I’m just moving on the fringes. I’m not comfortable and what I’m getting here isn’t enough to make up for what I’m missing at home.