herlucidlife

Honestly I haven’t felt like writing. Sheeted over like a blanket of gray, sulking on things I can control. I spiral like the SVU marathon on TNT. Sometimes I just want to wallow because there’s nothing else to feel but sadness. Giving thanks doesn’t always have to be done with a smiling face rather an open heart is also hidden behind sad eyes. Grateful to experience and feel in my nature the tangibility of emotions, I’m blessed to be here. Floating in a pool feeling weightless in my bones it’s been a while since I’ve floated without narcotics. 

The walls closed in faster than expected. Emotions, feelings, imbalanced hormones…grappling with sobriety I tried to set up a fun evening to say goodbye to my dear friend herbal remedy, trying to make my psyche feel at ease. Don’t base my story on anyone else’s, this is my rock bottom to not be judged or compared for each hole is hell to the needed person. One joint left and a roach, lunch and church under my belt like a holster. Cleaning my clothes among the masses, my personal items got a kiss of public water. Two liquor filled balls found their way into my possession. Money on tight I made it work for things I didn’t need. 

Conviction on my back like the sadness in my heart everyday is blessed with grateful embers from Jesus. I know I don’t deserve even just a nanosecond of His time but somehow I found ways to waste precious moments given by Him. Never having experienced this part of life, new demons, old habits. My washer machine went out and I felt every bone in my body heighten into stress, almost wanting to go frantic (can barely get through the story from overthinking, smothering the vent, air can’t flow freely. Suffocated, drowning. I’ve been quiet lately, a lot to say but no words being produced) Laughter filled my lungs as it’s just another obstacle in the course of life. Patiently saving up what I need for another washer God grants blessings to have clean clothes anyway. 

Stuck in the head like a bad song on repeat. Every time mood altering liquids ensue my body you come to my mind, it’s routine. I don’t want to think about you and it really should be water under the bridge. My feelings are still hurt. Admittedly looking at my face under the warm eco-friendly forty watt bulb in my bathroom, my eyes don’t look good. My face looks tired. Thinking about my childhood I remember being in happy situations feeling gladness and then stopping to somehow find a small thing to be sad, glum, or overly sentimental about to the point of wanting to cry. Non-learned behavior is the most dangerous, almost being instinctual, innate the mental dance is home.