At Least I’m Not Addicted To Eating Drywall

I’ve been pretty hard on myself these past few weeks. I went through a phase of “what the hell are you doing?”
“This isn’t you.”
“Get yourself together.”
“Makes some damn moves.”
So I made moves. Ended up right smack dab in the heart of Nashville. Felt good to be home. Questions.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Do you have plans?”
“What’s the next step?”
“Have you thought about long-term?”

I felt like a complete failure. Everything that I’d ever dreamed seemed to slip through the cracks of my mind and heart and ceased to exist. I lost myself. I’m finding it all again and I think I almost have a plan. I have the outline. Most of it. I’m working on filling in the  body. One day at a time. I wasn’t feeling very confident until the other night while watching My Strange Addiction. It really sunk in that although I clearly don’t have all of my ish together, it could always be worse.

At least I’m not addicted to eating drywall.
*keeps on keeping on*


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