bleak and pretty

my reasons to keep moving are falling from my hands like bits of sand.

i refuse to label my emotional experiences anymore as some sort of episodes. as if putting them in a box of categories helps me sort them out. as if labeling can disconnect me from the reality of my emotions.

tear in my eye, heavy chest, tired muscles, lump in my throat, insatiable desire to sleep? let's just call it depression.

i lost it when i tried to think about what's keeping me together. what's still fueling me to move forward through life. like, overnight, i've lost all my reasons to live. but maybe it's not happening overnight. maybe i'm losing them bit by bit, step by step, like dandelions drifting away.

i'm listening to nights by frank ocean. i need it.

i'm so tired of being strapped to my work station just to earn money to survive. i'm beyond tired. it feels like i'm starting to lose parts of my soul.

i do not want to be here in the middle of the night. i want to be near the sea. i want to camp inside my tent. i want to wake up to breaking waves and chilly air.

i'm not sure when's gonna be my next surf trip. there isn't going to be any soon. it feels so, so far away. like i'll be strapped in this god forsaken city for a long stretch of weeks and months.

plus, i need to move out and find a new apartment. it's gonna be a hell of an adjustment and transition again. and i'll be all on my own.

my appetite's declining. hello, depression-related weight loss.

also i have been having really difficult conversations with my SO. we've been talking about his kids and his parenting failures.

which reminds me that i've been TTC with this man, and it's been 3 failed cycles.

and then you ask yourself.

do i really want all this?

can i be just a little more miserable before i'm finally free?

sometimes just a little more feels like forever.