Creak

As I creep closer and closer to 40, I shift and change and meld into something else or someone else. Or whatever the fuck it is. It’s that. It’s like I’m literally developing into a different being right in front of myself. Things I never thought waverable, I’ve wavered on. Things I’d never thought I’d face again, I’ve faced. Thoughts I never thought I’d have, I’ve had. And things I never thought I’d humor, I give rent to inside my head.

And then sometimes I don’t. I’m all over the fucking place.

I’ve changed a lot for the better. But these last two years have been hard.

Real hard.

I’ve fallen. I’ve become broken. I’ve dealt with a lot of depression and negative thoughts that have found room to grow and insert themselves amongst my confidence. I’ve just kind of shattered this last year especially.

And, my relationship has been tested like never before. So, I’ve been fighting my demons sort of by myself. I mean not alone, but not really not alone either. And that’s not a negative comment about my spouse, or any sort of dig or anything. It’s just the situation.

And it’s all kind of made the chaos level in my head rise exponentially. My comfort zone has been somewhat shaken and up ended. And so my safe zone hasn’t always felt that way, even if it always has been. And I’m sure that has caused me to react in ways too. And those two different trajectories ricochet off one another on ways that feel mentally explosive.

I’m not proud of every one of my thoughts or behaviors or reactions or feelings, And I’m not happy with all of those that have come from others either.

But, I trek forward in hopes of finding a better me again. Not just finding it, but maintainting it. Not just maintaining it, but elevating it.

Not just elevating it, but electing it to rule supreme.

And believing in myself. Thats really the hard part.

These last few years have just been brutal on me and my self image and self worth. I’ve been battling and battling and battling. And trying to pretend like I’m not, because I don’t like to share my struggle. I don’t like to mention my burdens.

And then it fucking eats me alive and I break and I crumble and I can’t see the light. It’s not that darkness takes over, I just can’t find the light. I can’t see the way.

I can’t make it through.

So I sit in silence. In echoes. through minutes, through hours, through days.

I’ve always kind of had struggles, it’s a childhood/family combo kind of thing. But, I’ve always found my way through. I’ve always had a light to cling to. To reach for. To escape into.

And I guess I haven’t had that very much lately. Or, I haven’t felt that I’ve had it.

I’ve probably been sadder for no direct reason this year than any other year or time in my life. And, I’m just fucking exhausted with it. I really am.

My whole life has just been one giant rat race to get through to the next day, the next month, the next pay day, the next due date, the next whatever whatever.

I’ve spent all of my time just trying to get through, and so little time enjoying what I’m doing while I’m getting through, and it’s all coming to the surface in relation to turning 40.

And I’ve just lost sight of myself. Entirely. I’ve lost my way. I have literally, lost the light that often guides my way. And now I’m just kinda lurking in the shadows, scattered and disjointed.

I guess maybe I always have been.

I gotta make sure that changes, before it never will.