Two weeks in bed now. Likely another four weeks ahead.
I find apathy beginning to take over. I pass the hours watching movies and television, playing word games on the computer, keeping up correspondence with friends, reading a few chapters of a book here and there. But these things are beginning to lose my interest. For one like me who is generally up and outside enjoying the warm weather, basking in the suns rays, hiking around town, at home among the grassy hills and towering trees, confinement is difficult. For one like me with a huge list of projects on the go or in my head, to spend the days in seeming unproductive ways should be unnerving.
But I find I am not despising these four bedroom walls. I was resigned before this began I may have to while away these weeks in this manner. Worse than hatred is apathy. I can feel a lack of interest settling in. A lack of interest in projects, in exercising of the mind, of using this time with a purpose. I am not bothered by my inactivity and unproductive manner, and that bothers me.
I am ill and I am limited, but it's the loss of passion that I notice most of all. I am trying to spur on my mind to embrace some sort of project - writing, composing, researching - one of the many things that can be done within the confines I face. But the physical drain is taking its toil mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I wonder if I will find something, or am destined to wait until this time has passed to find a renewal.