There's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet, no matter where you live

Things that are still hard: Being alive.

I'm working on that, though. I'm going to talk to my mother. I'm going to put in for jobs so I can move and I can quit. I think I'm going to sit down and seriously decide if I need to temporarily wash my hands of writing -- and not in the "I suck, I just need to quit" way, in a "wow, I need to settle my head on my life circumstances and taking the stress off myself to commit words for a while might help" kind of way, and see if I can find a way to forgive myself not trying til things get fixed.

I'm going to do it, and I swear to god I give everyone permission to yell at me til I actually do it this week. Because I have to. I really have to, or I don't know how much longer I'm going to get by without an actual breakdown.

(This post brought to you by a long night at work being the one to run the walkie-talkie and the announcement system while fighting my brain to keep from going nonverbal, a long week of trying not to cry at work, and a long however-the-fuck-it's-been-I-honestly-don't-know of depression and anxiety beating me over the head.)

you'll only hear the knock knock knock of your own heart as signal

( Lists for the next four days. )