I feel frazzled and uninspired to write. I feel as if the stress of my life has taken over. I cried for the first time since this “down spiral” began and it didn’t even help. I feel disconnected from the world more often and feel as if I am drowning.

My laundry is piled up, what clean laundry is in the basket refuses to find a drawer all by itself, my t.v. shows have taken a back burner because I feel no enjoyment out of them anymore.

My husband’s job is driving me nuts, keeping me tied at the end of a string. Answers are nearly impossible and not having much information makes me feel like our lives are about to change drastically. We’ve been told the job is his, now he and two others are going for job interviews right around the 23rd. I guess one doesn’t seem like he would be a good candidate because of his lack of will at work, but who knows. Maybe it’s a formality they have to follow and will give him the job at the end of it. It’s the little things that are making me feel like I am way out of orbit, unable to breathe.

A lavender vanilla candle has been my therapy nearly on a day-to-day basis, working as much as I can as an on-call teacher just so I am preoccupied, and afterward, locking myself in my room or hide because I just don’t want to be around people; something that is unusual for me. The smallest things drive me over the edge, I begin to yell and scream, my patience has been worn thin, my heart on my sleeve, I feel battered and bruised emotionally, even physically drained.

I want answers.


I feel like writing is doing something, but with my lack of feeling, my passion for life and writing has been lackluster, almost none existent these last couple of weeks. I feel broken.

How do you pick up the pieces?

Wishing to fast-forward isn’t doing much of anything, but cleaning like a fiend helps, taking all things that feel toxic in my life, unused and taking up space now live in a closet until spring when I can sell them so others can be happy.

Snuggling with Squirt momma, my fat cat who thinks she is deprived of attention, lays next to me, purring. My kids are downstairs in awe that my youngest lost his front tooth. Where it’s at, we’re not sure. Dear John is on E! via my laptop plugged to an HDMI to the TV in my upstairs bedroom, but I think my graphics card has had its last breath to considering it plays a movie or show for a few minutes then freezes. I can’t bare paying for a cable box upstairs when I have other means to watch TV. It seems Netflix on Playstation is where it’s at for now, but brings contentment.

In other news, I am slowly conquering Beautiful Choas, the third book in the Beautiful Creatures series. I read the first two and didn’t love them, but felt incomplete not reading the other two. So I picked up book three. I read it when I have planning periods or time in between to relax and destress. It’s good don’t get me wrong, but just not sure it’s a book for me. I will more than likely finish the last book when I am done so it will be out of my way. The next series in line I will read is The Alchemyst by Michael Scott, or I will finish Anna Karenina by Tolstoy. Goodreads. Find me, add me and let’s read together!

College also seems daunting, like a foreign country to me. I know the idea of college will help my career in the long run, but deep down, without guidance and answers, I feel as if I need to stop pushing forward. I know this is something that I want, but until things fix themselves, or we make our life elsewhere, I feel as if it is not necessary. I’m scared of what the future holds, and I only hope I will get answers soon.

Empty. Broken. I will fix the pieces and try to remain positive. Onward.


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