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Hello, love,

How have you been doing? Is it snowing where you are? Here, we just can’t seem to get a break, and I find myself wondering if spring will ever come. It’s long winters like these that make it so difficult for me to stay positive. All I want is to curl up and hibernate until summer comes. Sunshine, blue skies, and warmth – that’s all I want.

Overall, things have been pretty tumultuous on my end. Worrying about finding a job that I can actually handle, finding a stable place to live with people who won’t drive me crazy, trying to wrangle my disastrous mental health. Sometimes, it just feels impossible, and I find myself completely checking out from reality, knowing that there’s so much I need to do, but completely unable to do it. Even if the act of knocking some things off my to-do list would in theory reduce the stress, the thought of trying to do it is stressful in itself. The fear is so great that it’s been swallowing me whole lately, and I’ve barely been able to do the basics.

And yet, I’m trying to put myself in situations where I’m more or less forced to go out, and that’s been helping. With a job, I’m forced to get up and get dressed, and get out the door. That’s not to say that I don’t completely disintegrate on my days off, but at least I can’t go ten or fourteen days in a row without so much as cracking a door.

The darkness gets so bad, though. The anxiety has teeth, and it gnaws away at me like some sort of monster, feeding off the tiniest little things. All I can do is try and block it out and not think about it. But of course, in the effort to block it out, I end up wasting the whole day in bed, and then I do it all again the next day. Or, I end up doing something else that I regret, like maybe ordering way too much take out and later wishing I still had that money when I really needed it. Everything feels like a waste sometimes. I waste my money and my time, and I feel like I’m wasting my life. My whole, stupid life is a waste.

Yet I’m trying to be grateful. Not because I’m some wellspring of gratitude, but because things really could be worse. I could be living in my car again. I could be dealing with that hassle every day. At least I have a roof over my head, even if that roof keeps changing and it’s usually somewhere stinky and noisy.

I met a homeless man yesterday, out in the freezing cold. I could barely stand to talk to him for three minutes, I was shivering so badly, and yet he was there all day. I don’t know how he does it, but I found myself being grateful that I’m not in his position. So that’s something.

Despite how dark things got a couple days ago, I’m once again trying to bounce back. And when I say that things got dark, I mean almost as dark as they could possibly get, to the point where I wasn’t sure that I would make it to the end of the day. Sometimes, the hunkering down and wasting time is the only way to save my own life. It’s the only way to block out the flashbacks of the other times I almost died, memories that still haunt me, yet call to me at the same time.

I listened to some worship music this morning for the first time in a really long time. As I get ready to go to work, I’m trying to keep things positive, but honest. Honestly, I’m exhausted because I’m not sleeping well here. Honestly, I wish I could go back to the trailer park and while away my days. I wish I’d never tried to come back to the city, because it’s not turning out the way that I had hoped. I’m too tired or anxious to do the things that I plan on doing, and then I feel like a failure for not being able to do them.

But honestly, these last few months have been nothing but turmoil, and I’m ready to settle down for a while. This is definitely not the final form that I want my life to take, but hopefully it’s a stepping stone to where I’m really going.

Thanks for Stopping by!

I hope you liked what I made for you. Leave a comment and start a discussion!

Did you know I published my first book? Check it out on Amazon or my Patreon to find out how you can get it for free! My poetry will guide your inner child through nostalgia and contemplation, helping you validate and heal.

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We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.
― Anais Nin

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