On monday i stood atop of this hill. Looking down. Looking at how beautiful where i live really is. I try as much as i can to experience the outside. Sometimes i struggle and that sucks. Recently I’ve not really wanted to leave the house. Monday was an example of this… but i did despite the nagging urge to reside in my bed for eternity. I knew I’d see my friend, and i knew I’d feel better in doing so. I did feel better, and i got to take some great pictures too. It was actually going rather productive. However half way through i just stopped.
I stopped enjoying my freedom. Stopped gazing at my surroundings. Stopped appreciating the company i had. I just stopped trying all together i think. I felt awful because people know don’t they, when you just give up putting on the “all is well” act. Well some people do. So what was going to be an inspirational post about how lucky i am to live in a place that suits my passions so well…. turns out to be a mismatched post about how I’m still fucking up. I stopped going to my groups stopped going out alone.
Everything was well last month. Settled. I was making leaps and pushing myself. Willingly wanting to go out. To better myself. I had the confidence and self motivation. The willpower. It all seemed so natural. Now though. Everything seems so much effort. The smallest decisions. The tiniest actions. It all frazzles me out. I’m unbalanced and my coping strategies aren’t the best.
I’m scared. “This is it. I won’t get back up from this one. This is gonna be the one where i won’t be able rebuild myself after.” That’s how i feel. Everything i planned. All the big ideas. Now seem so distant, out of my reach… I’ll carry on as you have to. I only hope i feel myself again soon. That every thing doesn’t feel like a chore. That i can be happy, and experience my life the way i was. Regain some order, and continue my journey.