A friend sent me a video the other day, something about hitting your lowest point but knowing that the only thing that can come next is being launched into a whole new life. A better life, presumably, but of course it could be worse.
At the very least it’s going to be a new-ish life.
I’ve recently hit my lowest point quite a few times in a row. I still feel like I’m hovering just above rock bottom with something chained to my waist and pulling me down, and I’m reaching up with whatever strength i have left to grasp on to something that will help me ascend to something better.
Sounds stressful, right? But I think that explains a lot of us, whether or not we’d like to admit it.
I’m still standing on that razor’s edge, as they say.
Sometimes I write things like this, knowing full well that it’s the complete truth about how I’m feeling, still with fear of putting it out there publicly.
What if I’m trying to get a job and someone reads this and I don’t get hired? What if someone I’m dating reads this and is doesn’t like me anymore for it? What if I’m made fun of for it?
That last one isn’t something i really feel much of anymore, thank god. The first two have some basis in fact, but at the same time if someone is going to read this shit and have a completely different view of me, so much so that they cut me off, then fuck ’em, right?
I need to remind myself that the whole reason I started writing was to help others. To put myself out there for other people to see and to relate to them, in the hopes that they no longer feel alone.
If at least one person reads this and finds some peace or connection through it, then I’m happy.
That’s all that matters.
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