Writing to Write

I’ll admit, you probably won’t find anything special in this post. Not much motivation today & I’m starving – breaded pork chops almost finished in the oven. The timer starts now.

Today I racked my brain because of one thing: I didn’t write a blog yesterday. Yeah, maybe that’s not a big deal, but the reason I didn’t write one is definitely a big deal. I was lost, beat up, and felt like giving up. Luckily, I have that support system I keep telling you about. However, I should’ve given myself some support. How? By writing.

I’ve found that no matter how many people actually read this damn thing, it helps me break what feels like a blood clot in my chest. It helps me breathe. It helps me… be me. Writing is truly beautiful. Reading, not so much. I’ve had enough of the self-help books & awareness books by now. I’ll definitely keep reading them, but my mind can’t take the rawness of them at the current moment.

So, yeah. I don’t really have much going on today or tonight. I’m still getting over a break-up and to be honest, it’s destroying me each and every day. I keep fighting because I know I have to. I keep writing because I know I have to. I keep living because I know I have to.

Don’t let this post get you down. This is a good thing. This is a person, distressed, making sure they’re taking care of themselves any which way possible. You should try it, honestly.

Whether it’s writing or… fishing? I don’t know what the opposite would be to writing, but fishing sounds much less intense & self-defeating. Find someone or something that’s an outlet for you. Find a way to to get everything and anything off your chest.

None of you know me. None of you can judge me (because I won’t know about it, but you probably do judge me… how dare you). I do hope I help some people on this. I’m not doing it all for myself, I promise you that. About 95% for myself, yeah, but the other 5% goes to you. I’ve always been a generous guy.

Again, no clue what the hell you’ll get out of this. Just find an outlet, alright? Don’t stew on your bullshit. It’s not healthy. I say that as I spent about two hours this morning moping and crying. Again, just because I type this some nice, feel-good shit doesn’t mean I live it every moment of the day. I fail so, so often. It’s OK to fail. It’s OK to fail as long as you know you can win someday.

I’m hoping tomorrow is that day. I really do. Most likely it won’t be, but that hope keeps me going. Along with this writing. OH! And those pork chops. Time to pull them out of the oven.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.