I’m not creative anymore.
I’m not really anything anymore.
And my whole life used to be creative. Everything I stood for was so that I could put more words down and life more people up with them. But was I ever really that uplifting?
I feel like I don’t know how to make good decisions anymore. I feel lost. I feel terrified. I just want to give up and start again, but life doesn’t work that way. I feel stuck, but I have to get unstuck, or else I won’t survive.
And I’m not sure what else I can do.
I miss home. I miss the west. I want to be anywhere but here. Because there’s a little bit of grace in starting fresh. And all I want right now is to start fresh.
My heart has been aching for so long now. Every step I make to lessen the pain only makes it worse. Why can’t things go back to the way they used to be? Why can’t I just go home? All I want is to go home. I want to be able to tell my mom how frustrated I am with Alabama and the lack of opportunities and community here. I want to go home and have my dad make me dinner and help me figure out how to fix all of this. Because for most of my life I had that ability. And I didn’t realize how lucky I was. I didn’t realize how much I took it for granted because I was so depressed and stuck in my own head. But now I’m depressed and I have nowhere to go. And I can’t go home anymore.