2022 was the worst year for me spiritually, emotionally, and physically! i haven’t been well and i’m disinterested in hiding it! things are getting better, and yet i’ve still seen new depths of rock bottom that shattered me beyond my core.
i lost my favorite auntie and uncle, my mother (not physically, but in spirit or presence), and a friend. i also lost myself. i survived an abusive relationship and subsequent breakup. i’m still here fighting for past, present and future neta.
i spent most of my year in bed, laying in the shame of the mess of my physical space and life, wondering when things became so vulnerable to cosmetic dysfunction (taking over longstanding internal dysfunction). it was mostly through close friends and confidants who listened, sent meals, and encouraged me that things shifted.
i played the same traumatic memories on repeat for months until they went to static noise. i didn’t find life meaningful or worthy. i even lost my capacity to remember dreams in my sleep, and preferred the quiet darkness of over sleeping.
i became my own antagonist, shifting blame for all the systemic problems of the world into my self, entertained the foolishness of bootstrap logic, and over indulged the self until my ego folded in on itself.
my plants died as a reflection of my interior ecosystem: lacking in nutrients, dry in soil, thirsty after water—
there is no turn of events, no happy ending, no silver conclusion: my life remains a terrain characterized by ups and downs of deltas, trying shit and figuring it out, slamming the computer shut, tucking myself in, showering myself in kindness and grace or letting the rage pour.
sure, i’ve made it to today, and yet, i don’t overpromise myself tomorrow, consuming water steeping in pragmatism where my optimism cosplaying as cynicism once was.
