There are days when I feel like I’m stuck in a rut. It seems like nothing I do matters anymore.

Lately, nothing really excites me. All I want to do is sit and do absolutely nothing. The television doesn’t interest me, so I turn it off. I tried reading, but after a sentence or two, I put the book back down.

I’m going through my daily routines simply because they’re expected of me, but I’m not getting much out of them.

If you’ve been following my journey for any length of time, you know I’ve dealt with some pretty serious health issues. Thankfully, since my gastric bypass surgery, my health has improved in several ways. But my CML is still there, and it’s something I’ll live with for the rest of my life.

I’ll be honest. It’s a constant battle not to end up in the frame of mind I’m in right now. I’m not at the point where I’d say I’m depressed, but I also can’t pretend it isn’t peeking around the corner.

I can’t tell you what triggers these episodes. They just seem to appear out of nowhere, and when they do, it usually takes me a couple of days to climb back out.

Is this just a “woe is me” moment? Maybe. I can’t completely rule that out. But even if it is, is it really so terrible that I have days like this every now and then?

I’ve been doing some yard work around the house—things that genuinely needed to be done—but my heart just wasn’t in it. I had the opportunity to go fishing on Friday, something I normally look forward to, but I made every excuse in the book not to go. Instead, I stayed home and worked in the yard.

This morning, I spent a few hours volunteering at church with some friends. While I was there, I genuinely enjoyed myself. We laughed, got some work done, and for a little while, everything felt normal.

On the drive home, I found myself thinking about all the things I wanted to do once I got back. That alone gave me hope. I thought maybe I was finally climbing out of this hole.

But as soon as I walked through the front door, that feeling disappeared. The heaviness came right back, and I honestly don’t know why.

Since getting home, I’ve done little more than sit in this recliner, not really wanting to do much of anything.

Maybe what I really need is a change of scenery. I need a break from doctor’s appointments every other day. I need to go somewhere where I don’t have to wonder what’s going to break next—or assume I’ll be the one expected to fix it.

On a brighter note, my wife’s car is finally back. That means I won’t have to chauffeur her to appointments anymore, and I can start making plans without first checking to see if she needs me somewhere else.

I’ll be okay. I’ve been through these seasons before. They come, and they go. Right now, the climb just feels a little steeper than usual.

Sometimes life is less about never falling into the hole and more about remembering that you’ve climbed out before. I’m trusting that, with God’s help, I’ll climb out again.