spewage

I desperately need to vent, to rant, to scream, to cry. All of this.

There is no space for it. Nothing safe. I can’t write what I want here, because it’s too public. I don’t have friends I can talk to about these things. I can’t afford a therapist. Facebook or twitter? More public.

What to do?

I do sometimes write pages of drivel and save it someplace safe. It’s rare that I put pen (or pencil) to paper any more, so electronic journals are about all I have. Snarky passive aggressive posts on social media bring a tiny amount of relief.

The whole ‘just keep swimming’ mantra gets pretty fucking old, when you are actually swimming backward.

Blue

Every winter when the days get short my mood is slammed by a ton of bricks and this winter is no exception. 

Sentiments like “count your blessings” or “you have it really good” or one of the worst “gawd has a plan” only make it worse. 

Many times I feel like the only reason I’m still here is because I’m too cheap to buy a gun. 

So it goes.