I am so upset and embarrassed at how emotionally vulnerable I am right now. I wish it wasn’t this way. I wish I didn’t crave the company of others as I do at the mo. It is the absolute truth, and nothing else though, when I say that I am alone and terrified.
It’s hard enough to reboot when your plan A is shot in hell, but what when your 2 year long plan B looks like it’s going down the drain as well?
You have to pick yourself up from six feet under, which is where your ego plummets down to.
And you will have to learn to do it, for most parts, alone.
I wish I could hire some emotional help. Some unconditional love and positivity.
The only people I can ask this of, are my mum and dad. But I can’t. My dad is sick. Seriously sick. He is no longer the person he was. Each day, I see him retreat into his shell. He doesn’t connect with us the way he used to. He stays in his room all day, and doesn’t talk to me as much anymore. My mum is my savior. She’s the guardian angel I pray for every night. She is human though. How many people can she care for? I can’t drown her with my insecurities and worries for the future.
I need a support system, and I need to build one inside me. A constant companion to navigate rough patches, a strict parole officer that will ensure I stick to the plan, an enthusiastic lifecoach that will remind me not to give up on my dreams, a hand that will hold out a candle as I fumble in the dark.
Luckily for me, I’m not a person that gives up easily. But this is eating at me- bit by bit, slowly but surely.
I want to shout a random prayer into the universe, praying for a miracle that will heal me and make everything whole and happy again.
I’m going to be writing in this blog to understand what I’m feeling. Writing has proven to be therapeutic in the past, and I hope it will help me feel understood again.
Song of the mo- Comfortably Numb