Trial by Fire

My impulsivity says “Let's write a blog post! lets write all the things! Lets right a fucking novel”

Rejection sensitivity peaks over the edge and whispers “But it won't be good enough and everyone will see just how terrible you really are at writing. So don't bother. “

My anxiety demands to know who will be reading it but my depression couldn't give two fucks.

And all the while my grief just sits there silently in the corner. Sometimes weeping, other times just staring into the void.

These parts of me pull in opposite directions and I can feel it inside me. I'm exhausted more often than not and I feel like even the things I do for self care are just one more task to add to my plate as I try to balance all of the dishes stacked one on top of another.

So today it's just gratitudes. That's all I can really manage at this time.

I am thankful for my family

I am thankful for gardening

I am thankful for my job

Love you

-Linden