I seem to recreate this blog often however it doesn't stick. The truth is I need to write. I need to write for me. Fuck my grammar, fuck my profanity, fuck my fears, fuck my darkness. In order to unfuck myself I need to write. I need to experience freedom, I need to break through this fucking wall that is closing in on me daily. I need to breathe and I can't breathe unless I tell you my truth.
The truth is today I can't breathe, I have this anxiety gnawing its way through me, it is eating at my stomach. Part of me wants to quit, to lay in my bed and just let it overcome me. I can't do that anymore. I keep quitting, letting it overtake me, letting it own me. Not just own me, it has owned my future, my children's mom. Instead of fighting it, I am allowing it in, I am embracing that bitch. I am not going to spend my time trying to figure out how to get rid of it instead I am making it a cup of fucking tea and chatting it up. I will breathe into it.
Last night I had this realization as I was obsessing over what treatment I should try; yes acknowledging this beast is healthy but I am trying to manage it, to control it. All this time I spend thinking about the darkness I double my time and energy in the darkness. I think I have spent so much time trying to out maneuver this shit that I have forgotten to live. To sit with this, to allow the lessons to come through, to observe and breathe,
I am sitting in it today. I am breathing and I am just being. I am finally defeated. I lost. Fuck that feels good. I lost, I failed, I am dark, depressed, anxious to the point of not functioning. This is who I am right now. I see now how safe it is to live in it, to allow it to own me. That is okay and I am okay exactly how I am no matter how fucked up I am.
