The next time you’re drawing an internal blank, stand in front of a bevy of notebooks.
I do a lot of cool things. Follow along below.
All in Notes
The next time you’re drawing an internal blank, stand in front of a bevy of notebooks.
In my office needing to release but holding back tears, I am exposed. My nerves are exposed. My triggers, exposed. And the tears don’t shock her.
I had a lot to own up to while also reversing the turmoil handed to me. Plenty of bags were dropped back where they belonged, and for once I didn’t apologize to them for me being so fuckwitable. Being a people-pleaser, agreeable, kind to a fault, will FUBAR you into oblivion
Have you ever felt a longing for something you’ve never had? Had pieces of your heart slipped so deeply past the surface they somehow hold you together? That’s how I’ve felt this week, only I didn’t realize it until now. I think I'm experiencing symptoms of a broken heart.
Somewhere in the beginnings of my journey, I told myself I deserved this pain and treatment, so i stopped doing anything about it. I let chips fall and cried later.
We have to end the narrative that struggle love is the only way to know love, that unconditional love is a backdoor means to inflict harm, that we must carry everything and everyone on our backs to be deemed worthy of love.
“How can I, a real human person with mental ashiness, possibly help and affect others whilst looking like I beat the final boss flawlessly? Do I have to? Who told me I had to? How can I seek and save the broken while being broken myself? Somebody messed up the guest list. I don’t belong in this space. Someone will find out I’m a fraud soon. Because I can’t be both broken and healing.”
My focus lately has turned to intentional writing to navigate around the huge potholes of life. Here are a few pieces I’ve written that may ease some of the jarring and the sick feelings after you thought you missed that massive hole but your shocks say otherwise.