Have you ever hit your lowest point and wondered if it was all worth it? I have, and let me tell you its a very dark lonely place. For weeks and weeks I had to muster up the strength for even the simplest of tasks. The only place I found comfort was within the four walls of my rarely clean room, I was held together with glue and I could feel myself unraveling. That was until April 2015 when I met the tiny black and white kitten my friends wacky ass neighbor had. Maybe it was because my tiny brain couldn’t comprehend how it was possible for something to be so small,or because it had been so long since I had felt needed, but adopting that little fur ball saved my life, taking care of him gave me a purpose. Here is this living, breathing creature small enough to fit in my palm and the only person he cared about was me, and I him. We ate together, shared my small bed, watched TV, you name it we did it. I even put him on a little harness so he could run around outside while I read. Something in this world needed me, depended on me to take care of him and that’s what I needed to get through. I still have my bad days, my days where its just impossible to get up, my days where talking to someone is enough to make me wanna curl up and die, but they’re fewer and far between. They say that we rescue the animals, but really they rescue us.
Getting your life together can be really difficult when you’re a bi-polar scattered brain who forgets to take her meds. Too harsh? Sometimes the truth hurts, especially when its your own. The thing is, I’m aware that I’m being a piece of crap. I know that I should have started running months ago. I know that I should establish a bed time so I’m not constantly fueled by exhaustion and caffeine. I know that I need to save money for school, and I know finishing my sleeve tattoo shouldn’t be my number 1 priority. I think you get the point I’m trying to make here, I know all the things that I should be doing to get my life started. This time I’m really trying (okay its only day 1) but everything Ive read or seen talks about how great you feel after everything falls into place but no one talks about what it feels like when you’re just falling. Lately that seems like all I’ve been doing, falling down into a black abyss with no hope of landing. Falling in love with someone I know I have 0 chance with. Falling into more debt because even though I’m a full time supervisor theres always something to pay for. New tires, new running shoes, cell phone bill, gas, the list just never ends. Nothing ever seems to end these days, I just keep falling faster and faster through this train wreck I call a life hoping that one day it will stop long enough to hear my own thoughts.
I guess if getting your life together was easy, everyone would be living the dream. I just want to stop living in a nightmare.
The thing about writing is that its probably the most pretentious profession out there. You tell people you’re a writer and they expect everything you produce to be some great work of literature. People, especially other writers, expect you to be on your game 24/7. Honestly, most of what I write is utter trash. Ill work so hard on a poem or story, and then suffer second hand embarrassment for myself when I go back and read it over.
I used to be good at this, this whole writing thing. It was kinda my gig, but I’ve been stuck in a year long writers block and I have no idea how I’m going to get over it. Maybe that’s why I conformed and started a blog. I just want my groove back, I want to be able to write without thinking or hesitation. I want to be back to my old self, the girl I was before the block. Not just writers block, but my whole life has been flipped upside down and for once I would like to be on top of it all.