New Year's

I can't deny it and I can't sugar coat it. I am bummed. I feel my life has gone off it's rails. Mom's death is still weighing on me. And it's to be expected, I'm sure. It's only been a little over a month. I don't think about it all the time, not even every day. But sometimes it feels like such a heavy blanket to live under.

I am bummed. And lately, it feels like the bummed is winning over the moments that I feel fine. Where I laugh, where I make food, where I put on make up to look and feel normal. I know I'm not going to be bummed forever. But today is apparently not that day. I was doing pretty good for a while, then another thing pops up and it feels like the shoes just keep dropping. I don't want anymore shoes to drop.

I need some good in my days. Lord, it is hard to pull through this, but I know I am going to. I will get back to me, though it will likely be a newer version of me. One that knows what it's like to face her fears and move through them to the other side. One who doesn't give up, even when she's tired. That new version of me? The new and improved one? It's in the making as we speak. Every time that I move forward, or even take a step back to let myself feel, that's the time that I sprout a little more. Growing pains are tough, aren't they?

I've been through this before, you know. Not this exactly, but such a thing that rocks you to your core, flips you off your rails and makes you claw your way back to good. I've done it before. I will do it now. So, if you happen to read this, please do not worry or fret. It's just me being honest. And if I can't be honest, what's the point of it all anyway.

I honestly thought that today I would feel better, that I would have a good day. Christmas time is over, house has been cleaned and the season of getting back on track should have wrapped up with going to bed last night. Weirdly enough, I woke up and it was the same. No inclination to write, just the damn heavy blanket. I'm not sure why I thought this symbolic day would feel that much different, but I did. And as shitty as all that disappointment is, I am here, at my computer. I am writing. It's not a fun read, nor is it likely funny or inspiring. But I am here, and I am doing it. This post may ramble and have crap for structure, but at this very moment, at 9:06 pm on January 1st of 2013, I don't give a damn.

I'm here. I'm writing. I'm sprouting. And yes, I am clawing my way back to good.
Good night.