Do you ever feel just so completely desperate?
Desperate to feel better, to feel differently…to feel anything?
That’s how I feel right now. Just…so, so desperate. My feelings are not cooperating with me. I’m existing in a space that feels quite difficult to occupy.
My mind and my body don’t want to exist, while my soul fights to survive. It’s desperation at its finest.
This world is full of so much pain. It’s full of hardship and burden…full of people feeling as desperate as I do.
But this world is also full of unique stories and experiences and people. There is no shortage of pain in this world.
Pain is not unique to me, and I do not hold the authority on it. But I do certainly have an understanding of it. Sometimes, I feel like writing is all I have. It feels like the only thing that makes sense to me in a world full of chaos and bullshit.
Writing means I’m expressing myself. It means I’m talking about it. It means I’m sharing my story, and inviting you in. Allowing myself to feel less isolated, less alone…less desperate.
I’m not always good with feelings. With other peoples, yes. With my own…not so much. But writing allows me to safely explore my feelings in ways that I’m otherwise painfully unable to.
We’re all writing our stories. Every day we wake up, we’re fighting a battle. We’re all here fighting to survive, fighting to keep going.
On the days I feel the most desperate, that’s where writing and sharing means the most to me. It’s often all I have. The only real outlet that exists for me.
I don’t know why I’m here, I often don’t know what the point is.
But as long as I am still here, I’ll keep writing and I’ll keep fighting. Even on the days that feel impossible, where the desperation to escape feels all encompassing…I’ll keep fighting to survive.
I hope you do too.
There can be beauty, even on the hardest of days. I see it in the stories we are all writing.
Maybe even the hard days mean something.