I will succeed because I am crazy

    Everything after 18 is full of heavy epiphanies. Every day I feel like I’m drowning in the current of time, everyday slips past me, cold blankets pull over my head at the last hour of light. I'm hanging onto my memories of when my friends and I were all together, sharing time and space. It makes the blanket feel heavier. Now there is only me, on my own, underneath it.

    Believing nothing is going to change for the worse is an active discipline. But discipline has become my weakest point. I keep waiting for things to fall into place, but that’s so far from what I’m supposed to be doing. 

    I’m supposed to be practicing my languages, art, writing, dancing, and instruments. There was a tinge of shame when a date spotted a guitar in the background of a picture and asked what songs I could play and my only response was:

"…the first couple notes of In Dreams".

Sierra Ferrell's tune would fill my throat when I was driving on the 101 to work, picturing my new home in Montana. Her bell toned voice ringing in my head and the snow capped mountains, the autumn showers of gold and red, the Madison river flowing freely. The horses and cows sprinkled across the plains, magpies and larks filling the sky with their delicate songs.

And I succeeded. 

    I am here, in big sky country. I love to say hello to the horses that hang over the fences for a wee bit attention, I love when the flock of larks nest in the tree grove behind my workplace so I can hear their choir from inside. I love all the people with niche hobbies and careers who just want to connect with each other. I love it here. The more people I meet the more motivated I am to pursue my aspirations. If they can do it...I can do it... 

But ever since I moved away, my drive to be out and about has dwindled. I'm back to anxiety during eye contact, questioning how people perceive me, staying inside my rooms for days straight. Just me and my rats rotting in my room. Festering. 

Every night, tossing and rolling over in my bed, sweat dripping from every surface of my skin. I wake up often huffing, panting, crying. My blankets soaked, cold, heavy. I reach out for a hand to hold. But there’s only me.

   I don’t like what I see in the reflection lately, it takes me back to middle school when I was horrified by mirrors. I’ve moved past that before, I know I can do it again. It just takes work. And time.

    I owe so much to my partners, my friends, my chosen family. All the different versions of myself, they loved me through, and I can’t thank them enough. I channel them throughout my day, when I’m practicing mindfulness, grit, passion. They’ve blessed me with their life experiences. 

    So I will use everything I have to succeed. I will keep trying my best everyday. Life can keep hitting me hard. I’ll scream out my sorrows like a maniac and move onto the next day. I’ll scream and kick my way back to the person I’m meant to be.