I promise to be honest about my struggles in life and to always help others fight for their own happiness while I fight for my own. 

My name is Tracy Abiona. I’m a 48-year-old woman, and I have gotten to the point where I feel like a shell; like I’m a cardboard cutout of myself wandering through my life doing the bare minimum every day. I am either autistic or just have a lot of traits in common with autism. I have also been sick my entire life from a mold toxicity issue. By the time I was 20 years old I felt so tired I felt like my life should be over. I remember thinking at times that it had to be almost over, right? I was unable to think too far ahead in my future, because when I did, I would get despondent and exhausted thinking about how much of my life was left. Suicidal thoughts would creep into my head occasionally, but, for the most part, I am not talking about being suicidal.  

The best way I can think of to describe how I feel is to say that my soul is tired. To say that I am emotionally tired isn’t enough. It doesn’t quite describe how I feel. My essence is exhausted. The exhaustion is deep; it goes to my core.

It shouldn’t come as a shock that over the years I started doing less and less of what I normally enjoyed. I use the word normally because even when I did things I always enjoyed in the past, there was little enjoyment. The combination of feeling things as strongly as I do and people treating me a certain way because they think I don’t feel anything ended up being like a war inside my head. The fact that I didn’t fit in anywhere and was unable to connect with anybody else were like battles that I was constantly fighting. At this point, I feel like I have lost so many battles, I don’t know if I can win the war. But I have to try.

In the past, I loved to read and learn. I loved to sing and dance. I loved animals, the outdoors, and being active. I loved history and studied Archaeology for a time. I loved jewelry and was learning how to make it. I had so many other things I loved, but over time I was getting more and more apathetic about everything, about life. I slowly stopped doing everything and I turned into the shell I am now.

Sometimes the idea of getting past the exhaustion and finding some passion in life seems insurmountable, but I keep remembering a quote I heard a long time ago that has stuck with me. “It is never too late to be what you might have been.” This is a quote by female writer George Eliot. I keep thinking maybe it isn’t too late; maybe I can still be the person I might have been. Down to my soul.

I decided to write this blog for 2 reasons. One: writing this blog will help keep me on track. If I’m writing these things down, it will hopefully keep me accountable. Two: I know there are many people who feel the way I do to varying degrees, some worse, some better. I hope I can help people like me to feel better. Even if I fail, hopefully, others can learn from me and succeed. This feeling of numbness, not being able to find passion for anything, is a horrible feeling. I don’t want anyone to feel as bad as I do, to struggle like I do.