It creeps up on you. The uncertainty in the stability. The discomfort in the comfort. Not quite downfall, but downhill.

At some point, you feel pretty good, high in spirits, on top of things. Opportunties feels like certainties. Novelty is invited. Challenges encouraged. Then slowly things change, day by day, little by little. Some days are still great, and most of them are pretty good, comparatively, but the overall trend is just ever so slightly descending. Maybe a month goes by, maybe a year.

Then at some point, you notice.

You notice that the view is not quite as wide anymore. You notice that your head is now where your feet used to be. Most days you are not quite low enough to justify to yourself that you are in a bad place. You just notice that you are not quite as alright as you used to be. Insomnia snuck back into your life as a former lover still holding some grip on you. Stress pushed the dark cycle of inefficiency in rotation, spinning faster and faster, darker and deeper. Loneliness reappeared as the abstract fear of losing those you love the most and the concrete indifference to almost everyone else. Insecurity moved from a manageable solitude into interactive monologues asking you if, perhaps, you did something wrong?

In the past while, I have been noticing with increased potency that I am not where I want to be, that I am not what I want to be. And with such deep and bitter anger, I recognize how the former demon exorcised has returned in the mirror. I am tired. Tired of working on change, tired of pushing and pulling, tired of tiredly trying. Then weeks morphed into months into a year. I feel my engine running on fumes.

Reminding myself of all that I should be grateful for, I can help but to ask myself: When is enough enough?

Yet as I ask it, I cannot tell if I mean having enough, or simply having had enough.