Yesterday was a not-so-good day, the kind where you're kind of grateful for a baby puking on you or a colostomy bag leaking shit literally everyfuckingwhere so that you have some kind of distraction from the dark little places your mind is visiting. I'm scared. I'm worried. I'm sad in that way where I feel like I need to cry and hug something warm until the worry fades but I just don't know if it's something possible.
I'm genuinely terrified. Like that drop in the rollercoaster except in this case, I'm not sure if the ride is ever going to pull up from the plunge. It's that constant heart-in-throat feeling, the kind of unwelcome rush because you didn't want to get on this particular ride in the first place. I spent most of last night trying to stay busy so that the feeling couldn't settle long enough to take root in my mind. I wasn't particularly successful.
And then I looked back on my entries. And found something nice. When this year started, I created an anthem for myself: “Everything will work out. You just need to have faith that it will, and courage to let it happen.”
So when yet another moment of fear passes over me, I find myself reciting the words in my mind... and I recite and recite and recite them until the anthem becomes a mantra and the mantra turns into something between a prayer and a mission statement.
–noun, plural -does, -dos.
a pretentious, swaggering display of courage
This is the bravest/only thing I can do at the moment: have hope and faith and courage that all this is happening for a reason... and even if that reason is stupid and dumb and completely horrible and just fucking cruel, that this is going to work out.
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