Something is wrong. I cannot find joy or peace or relief, and when I do, it’s hard to believe in it.
I type an entire page with words. And then I delete the whole thing. Because I don’t feel like it matters anyways.
The ups and downs are killing me. I have no escape. I have no-where to run. This misery is on repeat.
As comes naturally to me, I keep fucking shit up. There is too much to face and deal with all at the same time.
My counselor told me not to compartmentalize things. She wants me to continue to work on me and keeping myself grounded at the same time as dealing with all the shit.
I’m finding it impossible to do so. I had come to love my tarot cards and psychic development classes. Now, I don’t feel good looking at my tarot cards let alone trying to read them. I have no desire to attend class and be social either.
I started this blog in January and it used to feel good to write and let things out. Now I just feel like a whiner, stuck on repeat. I feel like I’m wasting my time. Who cares anyways?
My whole life feels like a waste. I’ve always thought I was a good person, with a good heart. I always thought I had a purpose, something bigger. I’ve always felt like good fortune would happen. I always thought I’d go places, be something.
But the ‘something’ I’ve turned into is tragic and the place I’ve got to is pain.