...and I feel helpless.
My life is generally neither pitiful nor worse than others' but I feel tired, battered, drained and without hope. I feel like my 2017 cloud is descending on me again, fogging everything in sight. This is not the kind of fog I like or want. I would not wish it on anyone.
Meanwhile, I usually tell myself I'm surprised I even got this far, but it's not actually surprising given the state of my bank accounts.
It is easy to say "I accept," but, as it is, it is hard to do.
I was reading my old journal entries and it turns out that on December 4, 2009 I wrote "Someday, everyone I love will seem like strange passers by."
On the other hand, there is hope. There is faith. And there is love.
Dear Self, tomorrow will be better.
Dear nonexistent reader, you are loved.
Listening to this song.
