I was so busy yesterday, trying to get more materials organized for the continuing effort to repair the wall that I had no time to post. Many thanks to Courtney for taking up the slack.
Not a lot is going on around here other than what we've been telling you the last few days. It's funny, you know, because to us it is constant and furious work to get our walls shored up and repaired, but to you out there learning about our lives as we live them, its the same old same old.
So instead of boring you with reports about lumber and gasoline levels, let me share something personal with you.
As all of you know, the world ended about four months ago, for all intents and purposes. You know the basic spread of the plague that created zombies across the world.
Fours months ago, I was terrified at the sight of a zombie. When men showed up to attack us, cold fear gripped my insides. It took a real effort not to lose control of my bladder. That may sound funny to some of you, but you are the minority. Most of you out there have felt that ball of ice form in the pit of your belly, the dread certainty that your life was in real and imminent danger. That you would have to do violence to save it.
I have felt rage and hate, frustration and contempt. Courtney has expressed her surprise that I haven't had any outbursts of these things, and to be honest, I am just as surprised.
You see, I think something is wrong with me. I don't know how wrong just yet, but I am pretty worried. I used to feel things so very strongly, deep passions and intense reactions. But something is different. It's sort of like I see the world through misty glass. I see mothers weeping for their children and I feel a tug at my heart, but not the mighty pull that once would have gripped me. I don't know if this is just a safety mechanism for my brain, having been overloaded with too much painful stimuli over the last several months (and especially the last week), or if perhaps I have some hereditary predilection for psychological illness that is just now starting to bloom.
Whatever the reason, I am feeling distant from people. I still say and do the right things, but I am disconnected from the act of doing so. My social interactions are on autopilot, and I don't know what to do.
Is this how you out there are feeling? I suppose that time is the only way I am going to be able to tell how serious this is. Don't worry, I will keep Evans in the loop and if I start to feel farther away from myself, I will try to connect. I don't think I'm going to go serial killer on you guys or anything, only numb.
Enough for today, there are zombies to pick off and a wall to rebuild, and too little time for either.
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