I'm sitting out front of the kava bar right now. I'm listening to a child cry out about how she wants to go home. Her mom is yelling about how she's being a brat. The dad isn't talking to anyone, just scrolling on his phone pretending he doesn't hear her. It's making me tear up. I get it. I think we've all been that little girl at one point. I think I'm going to start my period soon. It's only been eleven days since my last one, but the time between each gets shorter and shorter. The kratom subreddit blames my vices. More reason to quit. Now there's people yelling on the other side of the plaza. I think a fight will break out. Whatever. I'm scared to quit my pseudo-opiate. I remember when I stopped drinking it for maybe four months. The cops are here now. I went inside. The anhedonia was bad, but maybe it's because I started drinking again then. The constant routine of it all. I won't start drinking again, I've been sober for over a year. I want to be straight-edge. I don't want to smoke anymore. I don't want to drink kratom anymore. I don't want to have these habits. One day I won't. But it really depends on when I wake up in the morning and say 'fuck it.' That goes for a lot of things, too. One day, I'll say 'fuck it' and quit my job. I hate the way people look at me sometimes, or the way people pretend to not recognize me. "You know cuz of the mask lol." I don't really know, actually. My eyes don't magically transform, nor does my voice. The way people say it is like they're begging me to feel bad about their lack of individuality and need to conform, they want me to feel bad enough for them so I just take it off. I don't really care. The first time I got COVID, I was on my deathbed. And the last time I got it, pieces of my soul died. I don't want to get that way again. I don't really care that people I've known for years forgot my name overnight. I just want to say 'fuck it' and just cut those parts of my life and past out. The future is uncertain, I don't want to work for someone who uses me and my coworkers as SIMS to let out his own frustrations with his day job. I don't want to dread the next time I have to wake up because I won't be able to rest. I just want to be able to enjoy what I do. Whatever. Idk.
I figured I'd start keeping a digital journal. Why not? My birthday is in exactly one month. I always get weird this time of year, though I always get some way every part of the year. But March is different. I fear aging. I fear what time will bring. I always rationalize my thoughts to the point I get tied up in the nerves. It's annoying. I just want to get to the point where I don't fear my thoughts. It's dark. But there is light in the darkness. I love my fiance and I'm eager to be officially married to him. He keeps me grounded and in check in a way I've never allowed from others. He actually knows and understands my soul. He reads my mind. I wish he didn't sometimes. It breaks my heart when he blames himself or if he doesn't know what to do. I want to wrap him up in my arms and never let go. He wishes to protect me from everything, but it does go both ways. I must protect him, too. He's perfect, but I am flawed. I used to be worse, drifting from place to place with a gloss to my eye. I've improved a lot in two years. I still have a lot to work on. I'm trying to be kinder with myself. More patient. Some days and some weeks it's rough. I just keep trying. I won't stop trying despite it all.