kp, I'm so glad you posted this. You feel like a fish out of water, I feel like I'm drowning. Like the water closed over my head long ago, and I've been struggling to break surface ever since, like I haven't taken a deep breath yet.
Like you, I do try my best to acknowledge and appreciate the things that I do have in my life, all the little joys and small happy moments. Sometimes my pain is compounded by guilt over not being happy, like I'm ungrateful for the things that I do have. But they don't change how heavy my limbs feel from treading water so long, don't change the screaming in my chest as I'm struggling to breath.
So when does that end and real living begin? I don't know. But for me, surviving means there's hope. If I had died, my life would've been suffering and pain and that's it. Surviving means there will always be hope that real living can begin. When I'm angry (which, in truth, I often am) that sounds extremely trite, but as far as I can figure out, it's the reason I fought. It's the only reason I can think of that I still fight.
Some part of me that's important must believe in it.
~Emma