I feel so alone. Today was so hard feeling sick with this fucking covid the 3rd damn time I’ve gotten it! My chest has been hurting and my fever returns. I’m using my inhaler now because my cough got so bad. I am scared to go to sleep but I’m so tired. This is the worst part of not having a person who cares, one who wants to care for you when you need it. I am tired of having so many things happen and I have to fight fight fight! Fight for myself by myself. Fight to be heard and fight to right the wrongs. And I know the wrongs will never be heard. There’s no correction. It all falls on me taking care of my own self. I’ve trusted so many in my life who turned on me. When I felt safe, the flood gates would open and hurt upon hurt would break me. I walk amongst the living as a broken being. One who’s attempted to seal the breaks with temporary invisible glue. It all eventually falls apart and I once again am not worth being put back together. One day the pieces will scatter and my soul will float away. And I will no longer simply be. And that is most likely the best gift I can give, to simply not ‘be’. Until then I fight. With each battle I fight. And when I get brave, I will move away. Reinvent myself. Back to Oregon? That’s a possibility. That PNW land was where the creation of my happy boat came to be. I was asked to jump and take a chance, that it was safe, that I would be caught and held and loved. But time and age ruined things. Menopause was brutal. Anxiety and depression roared. I learned later what had happened but too much happened and I had to leave. After 13 years I may go back. Just the thought has given me rest and softened my heart and chest. I think I can sleep now. Thank you for letting me speak and for listening
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