Life /līf/ (noun) - a perpetual disaster

Is life only worth living once you've made poor choices to learn from?

There's moments in time where you face what seems to be a never ending montage of unfortunate events, and lately that's been the driving force in my day to day.

Less than ten days ago I was feeling on top of the world for the first time in years. I was happily cruising through my day to day and doing what made me feel good whenever I wanted and what made me feel alive whenever I needed it.

"Just go with it."

That was my mantra over the past 6 weeks.

"Just go with it."

It's still haunting me. 

I'm dealing with an inner battle daily just to keep it going, because it's the only thing that seems to make sense anymore. 

I got my ass handed to me again, this time even worse than before; yet in a different place, at a different time, under different circumstances. I turned my own life upside down because I felt I could get away with anything, that I could do anything, be anything, become anything, and live like nothing else matters. 

The struggle that is facing me is keeping that attitude going when everything I know gets stripped from me. 

I've been catapulted out of my comfort zone and in my darkest hours on no sleep for 3 straight days I made poor choices in trying to handle moving on. Lack of sleep breeds lack of judgement, and lack of judgement breeds preying on those who've been trying to help you out to the point where you don't realize you're putting strain and stress on the ones you care about who are trying to care for you back, be there for you, and do what they can for you.

It's been awkward. 

An awkward month reduced to an awkward week reduced to an awkward day and an awkward series of moments within that day. With each reduction it seemed to be getting better and better but it was just an avalanche of awkwardness snowballing into itself until it got so big it rolled off the edge and exploded into nothing but debris and powder.

Do we sometimes mistake awkwardness for awesomeness? Or do we simply get so caught up in the moment that any awkwardly awesome interaction becomes a dreamy haze waiting for the air to clear and open itself up to reality again?

Lost

No idea where to go from here. 

I'm wandering aimlessly through my day to day. Nothing planned, nothing warranting a clear direction.

It's always circles, like a merry go round that refuses to let you off, like a dark dense mass that holds you so close that you've lost yourself. Lost the freedom and will to succeed, the freedom to lead, to live and to love without a clouded mind.

We're told we are the masters of our own destiny. As if stolen from the grips of the mocking fortune cookie that you beg to scoff at due to irony, but the reality that surrounds me swirls around like a category 5 ready to sweep me away forever to a place where I cannot harm myself anymore, to a place where I can simply exist.

If only I were so lucky...