Perhaps it is the dark days of winter. Perhaps it is the fact that I'm not sleeping well. Or maybe it's just me being me, but I'm having those old "What the fuck am I doing?" feelings again.
I feel perpetually stunted as a human being. I feel as if I lack the basic skills to live a balanced existence. I struggle to make sense of the world around me and every day I come up short. Nothing seems to make sense. Just when I think I know what’s going on, I see the black cat cross my path again and realize something in the Matrix has just changed. And I’m back to square one.
My psyche feels like a shattered Faberge egg. Jeweled, beautiful, enchanting. Once priceless, but now just bits and pieces of something that will never be whole again. I do my best not to live in the past, but I realize that I’m forever changed by it. Trauma, hurt, illness, grief—they’ve all played their role in chipping away at the girl I once was. And no matter how many beautiful moments I have, like the ones I blogged about yesterday, there is still this ache in the depths of my soul that longs for the end of this life. No matter how peaceful I can feel in the moment, there is still this deep yearning for my last breath. To have that wonderful sense that the struggle is over and that I can finally, finally rest.