my greatest fear is dying alone. not the dying part; just the alone part. loneliness is hard for me. i hate being alone but yet crave alone time; talk about exhausting right? but lately, loneliness hasn’t been nearly as hard to deal with as the drowning feeling i have been experiencing.

know what i am talking about? that feeling when life has literally consumed you? kinda like when a wave takes you out at the beach and you don’t even know it’s coming because you were so busy gossiping to your friend while dipping your toes in the atlantic. yeah. the swell. the tumble. the desperate attempts to get to the surface. mhm. that’s what i am talking about. the near suffocating feeling from life swallowing you whole. now, i am not here to tell my sob story because sob stories are for drama queens and i only wear a crown on the weekends. but if you know me well, my life has been a mess since june. the end of a friendship, which broke my heart. heartworm treatments for our rescue pup. a move out notice because our beloved rental was put on the housing market. a not well rested summer. touring home after home, apartment after apartment. settling on an apartment. a broken nose. a surgery out of pocket to correct the broken nose. pneumonia. fleas. sick dogs. broken washing machine. acne flare ups. asthma flare ups. late fee because the post office messed up forwarding our mail. weekly therapy sessions. the end of another friendship; this time ugly and drawn out. fights over dirty dishes. anxiety episodes that wake me at quarter after three. seventy five pounds to lose. the worthless feeling that creeps over me.

see- these are all the reasons why my head has been underwater for the last eight months. i have been trying to stand up between waves and i have not been successful. and honestly the hardest part has been the hard time i give myself. we talk about it all the time; the “i am not enough” complex. i have been struggling. for a long time. fighting the waves, dodging the harsh currents; swimming through dark waters; bobbing and weaving in the most intense ways. i have been struggling. and i have been hard on myself for struggling. i tell my husband often- “i haven’t struggled to regain my footing like this in years”. and it’s true- these struggles have been the hardest; this is the hardest i have worked in years; these waves are bigger than the last ones.

but. this time i am doing things a little differently. this time, i am taking care of myself. i am getting dressed. i am making therapy appointments. i am asking for help. i am being honest about my needs, about my faults, about my mistakes. have i been critical about myself? oh absolutely, yes. but i keep taking moments to remind myself that my mental health will forever be my journey. i have broken down about a dozen times, wishing i had a different brain, a different story, a different diagnosis. but i tell myself that this mountain was given to me because i was best suited to climb it.

so while the struggle flows strong some days and trickles others; i continue to swim. not because i want too, and not because i have too. but because i know the calm will come & i can just float.


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