“Hey
I’ve got nothing to do today but smile.”
But I haven’t been all smiles recently. And looking back, it’s been this way for a while. That’s why I’m taking this injury so hard. In simple cliches: I’ve been lost in a big ocean, the marathon was my life raft, and once it stopped floating, I started drowning. All this sadness, all these tears, haven’t been for NOLA but for losing my way of dealing with whatever the fuck is going on in my brain.
I’m a little blind sided because I thought I sorted through whatver shit clogs my head. I thought I put in the work, but it appears more work needs to be done.
So yeah, that’s the state of the union. I’m frustrated and sad and pissed off and annoyed and hopeful.
It’s so confusing. I laugh so much. I find such joy in so many things. I love my friends and roommates and parents so deeply. My life is okay. It’s good. There’s nothing wrong. But when I turn the lights out and wait to fall asleep there’s an emptiness. I’m not fulfilled. I’m not happy with who I am.
All I want is to strip myself of everything I have and have done and accomplished and just be okay with being me.
The best part, the part that has me laughing about how truly fucked up I am: I don’t want tell my therapist any of this. I feel like such a success story to her.
So Internet, I’m telling you. I don’t know what you think about me, and I’m pretty sure I don’t care because most of the time I pretend no one reads this shit because I probably wouldn’t throw it on the world wide web if I thought people read it. But I hope you don’t think it’s always sunshine and rainbows in my corner. I might gloss over the tough times, but holy shit are they there.
I don’t even know where this is going, so I’m just gonna keep watching ‘Garden State’ and laughing and smiling and being okay.
