I’m Ready to Not Be Scared of Life
The biological container is trashed right now. Stress kills! My skin looks like shit. I stubbed my toe a while back and my toenail fell off. I also have whatever the fuck random scabs on my foot. I must say that my current outward appearance is a reflection of how I feel inside though. I’m tired af. Physically, yes, but more so emotionally.
My ex husband was trying to insult me by telling me that my struggle is real. Yeah, it is. Very. I told him that I frustrate myself. I do. Immensely!!
I have spent basically an entire year in isolation trying to figure out what my issue is. I’m acutely aware of my shortcomings. And it’s all good because I have learned to love my little freak show self and I’m doing what I can. We all are. We’re striving for better, whether consciously or not. We’re going to make mistakes as humans. And besides, perfection is an illusion: an unattainable waste of effort.
I don’t have a time machine so all of the tragedy and horrible decisions can be nothing but gifts now, allowing for deeper understanding. And I’ll never let myself forget that I’m winning at life, because I’m still here, bitches???
