The moments you need to write, and can't figure out where to start are the worst. The moments you think about writing all day and what you wanna say, and than the moment you finally log in and your brain goes, what was that thing we were gonna do again?
Ironically that's how life feels right now, a whole lot of "what are we gonna do," again. The rules after 2020 seem to be less certain, the ideals of life never more questionable. And for those who are probably waiting and wondering about what I'm gonna say about this, the whole aspect of hearing "I'm such a shitty Friend," one to many times, should have been my red flag. I hope you found what you're looking for its about damn time I find and damn well past time to realize I deserved more than any of that ever was.
I honestly feel like at 33 years old there is nothing from these past entries that anything than more than just my past. The world for what it wasn't last year and the world for what it's trying to change and yet also hold on to are some how not yin and yang-ing the way they use to. At least for me.
Though with all the coping I've did and done for my anxiety and possibly depression (so I'm told) being at an all time high over the last year(s) of my life from everything with food to drugs, its about time I find a way to get back the sobriety I once knew and also, write a little more to clear this storm cloud that sits above my head as I find my homeostasis once again.
Or well rather, maybe for the first time in my life. That's it. Time to find me.
Stay Tuned 😏
