anonymous

 Today, I woke up. And that is why I'm happy. I'm happy to have been able to open my eyes today, and look upon the world with a fresh perspective, if that is what I choose. And you know what? It is.  I've spent all week, all month, heck, I've probably actually spent the last three months just feeling sorry for myself. Worried, afraid even, of where I may be at the end of this month financially, or where I may be in May. And you know what? I'm tired of worrying. I'm one of the most positive people I know, and I've spent the last few months spiraling into a weird depression because I don't know where I'm going to find myself in the near future or if I'll even have the funds to keep my animals and myself fed, while still somehow managing to pay all my bills. And you know what? This isn't me. Worrying constantly, being sad, afraid, it's not who I am at all. So why should I let that be who I become?  I genuinely take pride in being one of the ...

  This pain that I still feel, this one's on me. I can't blame you anymore. Not for the parts of me you stole, or the parts of me that I willingly gave away. I can't blame you anymore for wondering why I'm not good enough or why I never was. I can't blame you for toying with my heart and all of the emotions that came with it, because even if you cared, it would no longer be your issue.  I guess it's funny, because even when it should've been your issue, it never really was. We spoke so often of how we rushed into things and maybe it was the wrong time... but it never would've been the right time, would it? We we're kids who didn't see the mistakes of our actions or how they would affect us in the long run, but isn't that what happens when you're living in the present?  I wanted so much for you to be my happily ever after, but I don't think it was ever that way for you, and I'm still learning every day to accept that and move past ...

Here we are. A week into 2022, and I could not be more depressed. I mean, if you spoke to me last May, I'd be very proud of myself currently. But if you spoke to me again in July, id have expected myself to be doing much better off by now.  I hate my body, I hate my face, and we've all somehow collectively agreed that social media is bad but yet... we stay on it???? And I'd be lying if I said social media wasn't a huge trigger for me because it most definitely is! I wake up and immediately check my Instagram and Facebook, all day I'm obsessively opening hinge and tinder to swipe left and right and 'x' all my new likes and respond to a few messages and then not respond to those same folk for days, and for what? Just so I'm left feeling empty inside? Honestly, you don't even want to know how many hours I put into Instagram in a day. I'm sure anybody would call it straight up unhealthy. And now, I'm of course, sitting here in my room, depressed ...