Healing

 I look forward to a journey.

A journey I will begin soon.

I've worked on my happiness in the exterior parts of my life.., I've created a comfortable home for us, I continue to work on my parenting skills, I focus on Frankie and my mental health with constantly seeking to create happy moments, and memories...

 Now it's time for the inside. 

    The dark nooks in my mind, the hurt, the pain, the broken and betrayed, the angry, sad, the helpless, and hopeless. The fuzzy, confused, and melancholy. The part I now see I avoided. 

I'm ready. 

The dark abyss won't take me this time. 

0617. (Sometimes)

I feel tortured. I don't believe in karma but if I did; this is payback for every horrible thing I've ever done in my life. When I'm here.. like this.... sore throat from almost 15 hours of on and off nausea w a metallic flavor of blood in my mouth,  swollen eyes, tender headed and hurting sore nostrils from nose bleeds..  feeling sooo ill... I think "nothing compares" "no pain or payback has ever felt worse" not anything. At this very moment.. I'm engulfed in hurt and confusion, I hate everything.

Everything-

And it doesn't matter who "understands, gets it, or agrees that I have the right to be angry" I dont want somebody to make it feel better all of the time or take it away...  sometimes I just want someone to be sad and scared with me rather than optimistic and hopeful. Sometimes. .. I'm just fucking angry and staying that way for a bit... brings me clarity.

Sometimes I hear nothing when someone is giving me advice; it's just bass in an exceedingly silent mute room. I daydream long enough I can feel my salty tears dry against my fatigued grey hued flesh. Sometimes, when I finally gain enough yearn to speak, I realize I shouldn't murmur a word from my dehydrated cracked lips because I may seem like a complete loss | psycho | downer. But sometimes... sometimes my words are the only thing that feels equivalent to a breath of crisp fresh air escaping a claustrophobic lockdown. I'm so very lucky to have the gift of a descriptive vocabulary cause I get to read my thoughts and feelings over and over... and over again. It's sad.

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And sometimes, I have a bad day.