Last year I bought this dream book kinda thing–well it was a planner with goals set up in a short term, long term and semi regular kinda thing, weeks laid out, goals listed and easily checked off quarterly and monthly. I got it at the end of the year for 2017 and I had every intention of using it to kinda push myself along, get myself out of my rut, use it as the tool it was intended to do, to establish discipline, to see reward.

But….then I got thrown away. I mean being thrown away was somewhere in the middle of trying to establish new patterns in my dream book but there were questions about me and my self worth and what I thought of myself and there I was, fucking homeless, fucking hated, fucking worthless and I didn’t ever attempt to use the book to do really much more than show me what I did not have—goals, really that I could manage nor any self-worth because I had been thrown away by, well, in hindsight I was thrown away by someone who had done it before already. Writing that is kinda like…AND, what the fuck did you expect? And I guess I didn’t expect THAT, though at the end of the day who knows what I thought everything should look like. It never really had a form, that relationship–more novelty and a lot of guilt probably held that together tighter than most things. I did not want to be better or more than their children, no no…I just didn’t want to be forgotten or ignored.

So, this year, I decided to try AGAIN. I bought the same damn book but this time I won’t be forced to write terrible things about myself–I won’t be forced to look at myself hard in the mirror with hate because well, fuck it. I survived another year. I did this largely alone save for Don and Duke–with my mother in Tennessee popping her head up every once in a while to make us feel less invisible. But I did this with even less support than I honestly have ever “not had.” I have never been able to say that ONE person had my back alone because–I was never a solitary thing. I would never have trusted ONE person to be my world entirely because that is a dangerous game to play. And though I honestly can say–he is one person I do trust explicitly with my heart and soul and mind—it is scary as all hell to know one person is the bridge between you and nothing. Eventually it might be just me hanging out on this bridge alone…but for now I am not. Nobody else has my back which is true and I need to see it and I hate to realize it. But…all in all I have done ALL of this alone ultimately since I have been the only one still standing at the outcome of so many endings. I am virtually unbreakable in every sense. My heart has tried to kill me, my head has, my lack of hope has…but somewhere in there is a woman who does not want to die.

I have my goals–this year there are a lot. Hey, I might even finish writing in this goal/dream book past the first few pages openly berating myself. I might even be able to write down what my dreams really are–I might even let myself REALLY have a taste of light at the end of the tunnel. I might develop some damn discipline–self discipline is a quality I am sorely lacking. This book I am putting a lot into. There are a lot of mights because I barely trust myself to follow through on much. I have terrible follow-through when it comes to things benefitting just me. If I can help you though, I am all in. For just me..it’s just me. I feel largely forgettable and yeah, I am, but this year at least….I am going to remember everything. Doesn’t mean I will suddenly remember someone, some thing, some conversation I wasn’t meant to–but this time I am going to be an active participant in my days and start MAKING memories worth remembering. And that is the promise I am making to me and to you. And really, the only one worth making right now.

xo