Raw.Real.Recovered.

I’m going to be real: I am struggling so fucking hard with this one, I can’t even pretend to have my shit together. Half the time I want to crawl right out of my skin, the other half I want to scream until my voice breaks—or just ugly cry until I can’t breathe.

Staying busy? Yeah, I try. I scroll, I work, I make lists just so I can cross things off and feel some illusion of control. But Eventually, I run out of things to do and the pain finds me. It seeps in around the edges, slips under every closed door, and suddenly I’m pacing the house like a caged animal, one bad thought away from losing it.

And don’t even start with the “use your coping skills .I know all the tricks. I could write a goddamn manual on surviving .But knowing how to keep your head above water and actually managing to do it? Whole different universe.

But here’s the joke: I’m not about to relapse, self-destruct, or do anything reckless. Not because I’m feeling strong—don’t get it twisted. It’s just that screwing up now would make this hell even worse, and honestly? I don’t have the energy for that kind of mess.

So yeah, I’ll keep going, keep clawing through this garbage fire one miserable minute at a time, because what else is there? Sometimes there’s no magic comeback, no silver lining, no inspirational ending. There’s just getting through it. And that’s all I’ve got today.

If you’re reading this hoping for a pep talk, sorry. All I have is the truth: Some days you don’t rise—you just survive. And that’s where I’m at. No sugar, no silver lining, just survival and a middle finger to the pain.