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I don’t really know why but I decided to grab a piece of paper and a pen. I guess in a way I need to let my feelings out. Unfortunately I have no one to speak to. I know it seems impossible. Like, Really? Not one single person to talk to???? It’s the truth. And every time I sit down to write I realize how much I love to write. I love the feeling of letting the words out; letting them go…It’s like a weight lifting off my shoulders. Writing makes me feel like I spoke to someone, even though I technically didn’t. That explains why I resort to writing. It is my friend….
I’ve been trying to make sense of this anxiety I feel. But the more I try to figure it out the more I realize, issues will not resolve themselves… At some point we have to decide to take action because inaction does not magically lead to progress. If we do not progress, we either remain stagnant or regress… I like neither… I like to grow, learn and move forward. I have learned that no matter how much something hurts, sometimes it is in our own best interest to let go….
I know that I am in control but that does not mean that emotions don’t sometimes get in the way.
Currently, I am sad and lonely. I look around and realize that I am more alone than I could have ever imagined. I have my son and I am so grateful for him because he is the reason I breathe…. But he is 12 years old. I can’t talk to him about the adult shit. The shit we go through just trying to make it and survive. The bullshit we go through loving people, whether it be friends, family or more intimate. I can’t worry him with financial issues, my job is to provide financial peace. I can’t share those things with the one person that gives me a sense of home…. I have to be strong for him. I can’t show him that pain. I can’t show anyone. So its always just me and my words. Me and my emotions. Me and my thoughts…. Me and my struggles. Me and my pain. All alone…Its just me….Will that ever change?????