It’s all a lie

My skin glows a jaundiced yellow in the setting Florida sun. I’m not playing well but I finally feel almost old enough to belong. It’s odd. I always feel like I’m stuck at 12 years old, or maybe even younger. I haven’t carved my little igloo in life yet, and these people I play with, besides my dad, I just don’t know them well enough to carry on a solid conversation. But they seem to enjoy my jokes, and I enjoy their company and their patience. I wish I had some patience. I can push my body to its limits, but it takes a lot of work from my brain. I am lazy at heart and goddammit I wish I weren’t, and my mind is finally getting strong enough to overpower itself and do what I would like it to do. It just takes a lot of work. My mind is its own monster – fighting me at every turn. I can’t even turn it off. The more I fight, the harder it gets. I can’t convince it to believe what I want and maybe that’s my heart getting in the way, but whatever. It’s fucking freezing in here, but besides my feet, I feel pretty warm.  Withdrawal is a bitch. Sometimes, I forget or ignore and then I get the shakes and I feel really fucking glad that that’s all it is. It could be so much worse. I’m not even addicted to anything, and it still sucks. Well, whatever. I’ve been keeping up with the training, or trying to (see above for the battles I play with my head). But I’m learning to sleep when I need to, and wake up when I need to, even if the waking up part is a lot harder. Half marathon on Thursday should be pretty doable and I guess somewhat relaxing because I’ll be on my own (except for my thoughts, which might make it not so much relaxing cause I can’t turn them off). But I’m turning this off for now.  What I really think and really feel are for me to keep because there’s no point at all to making everything public.