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Miserably Blessed.

It’s ok to be miserable and still know you’re blessed. Of course it’s not ideal, I mean who the hell would choose to be miserable, but knowing this also takes the pressure off. I am an awesome person living with severe anxiety and depression. This means often times I feel like shit. At any moment though I can say I am blessed with all the shit I have and even all the shit that ails me. As it could always be so much worse.

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I feel alone.

Completely an amazingly alone.

I have dear friends I could call on, but I feel like I’m bothering them, putting them out, or just so beneath and behind them that I can’t bear to reach out.

I feel like my life is in space. Very much a vacuum. I’m just floating. I feel like I got off the merry-go-round because I was losing my footing, I was fallingxi would have surely crashed… Or maybe I did. And now is going much too fast and its way too crowded and I’ll never get back on and everyone is still spinning but me. I walk alone in that park. Pat all the rides that I’m too scared or intimidated by and just watch others play. Some are miserable even but they keep going.

I mix metaphors.