“...It can’t be that BaAAaD” - a thing that Sheryl Crowe said in a song of the same title.
“Then why the hell are you so sad?”
Sheryl, Sheryl....
Who can’t relate to that song? I can. I’m the master of making myself sad by zapping myself with quick-fix gratification.
I regularly delete and resurrect my social media accounts. It’s my last thread of a peer group, and it‘s closer to snapping than ever before. I hate it, but what else do I have? Probably far more than I allow in. But I’m addicted to watching the parallel lives that race past by me like the trains by my house. Married. Pregnant. Engaged. Traveling. You know the rest.
We watch other people more than we engage with anyone, including ourselves.
I’m not stupid enough to think that most of these people aren’t miserable too. Did ANYONE enjoy this year? But even before that. FOMO. We all know it.
Deep down, I do mean well.
A sweet girl I went to school with posted her suicide note on Facebook yesterday. She’s not alive anymore. She had a toddler. She used to regularly post cries for help.
I guess sometimes things are exactly what they seem to be. Watch out for those hearts.
I wish I’d known her. Not in ”fixer upper“ sense.
I just don’t want more good people to die.
But anyways...
One thing I’ve learned this year is that if you think you‘ll be okay, or not... you’re probably right.
Watch out for what makes you happy. Deep happy, soul happy.
I’m trying to do that. I’m not calling my race. This is my life. The only person that can stop me is me.
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