Life is such a wild ride.
I will never understand why people do what they do, or why I am who I am.
Recently I had a mentor say to me
“What even is your life?”
In response of another wild story.
What even is my life?
Well it’s a mess.
Full of sad stories,
Some happy memories.
Riddled with anxiety and depression,
as a reminder it’s always there.
That it’ll never ever go away.
What even is my life?
I have a story for nearly every occasion.
Advice for any problem.
Experience for every break down, every tear fell, every bad day.
I’m a shoulder to cry on.
An ear to vent to.
A person that cares, and tries not to judge.
My life had taught me the sh*t’s f**ked up.
That people just need someone that will listen and help them up when they fall.
A reminder that they are worthy and amazing.
And that people suck, and will hurt you when given the chance.
I’ve learned to say no, to set boundaries, and to have standards of what to tolerate.
Not that I’m always successful.
I learned through therapy,
I’ve grown,
gained more tools for my tool belt.
I’ve become aware and have started healing on my own,
without the validation of my therapist.
I’m unlearning my harmful patterns.
Learning to counteract the voice in my head.
Learning to be content with life
What even is my life?
Its a story yet to be written,
yet to be finished.
It’s a wild ride,
a sitcom.
My life is me.
Fully exposed for the world to see.
Vulnerable in every sense of the word.