It seems as if there is a lot going on in the life of she who claims to not ever have much going on in her life. As usual, most of it is internal. And possibly irrational. Maybe even imaginary. But to me, it’s real. And a lot. Talking with my best friend tonight, in a long overdo catch up session, I realized today is kind of an important day in the life of Jenny. Yet things like that seem to make me feel as if I have no right to celebrate anything. I fear success. Still. I just no longer sabotage it. Hopefully. I am very fortunate to have this friend. He is my shelter in the storm. And sometimes that shelter is a bigger storm where he reminds me to fuck this shit and yes the world is a fucked up place full of nothing but a big black abyss of endings. And sometimes it’s not. Sometimes he provides that secret place where I can say that I am good. I am strong. I am scared. I am intense. I am tired. I am so so tired. I really am. I am tired of being tough. I am tired of being strong. I am tired of cheering myself on. I am tired of acting like I don’t notice others noticing my singularity. I am tired of being neglected. I am tired of being my own cheerleader. I am tired of being smart. I am tired of being clever. And funny. And pretty. And reliable. And dependable. And kind. And empathetic. And understanding. And consistent. And sane. I cry right now. I cry for the loss of my insanity. I cry for the loss of my ability and right to be reckless. I cry for lost tears. I cry for my lost will to stay in bed and not get out. I cry for all the things I never gave a fuck about that I suddenly do now. Why did this happen to me? Is this what I’ve been striving for? Destined for? Working for? MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE??? THIS?!?! I am a marshmallow toughed by decades and layers of calcified tears. I am at the point of no return. This is who I am. And I feel stuck. But it will only be briefly. Tomorrow is a new day. Right? A new day in a life I never quite sure is truly mine.
“It isn’t mine. Then again, few things are.” -Eeyore