Does God only give you what you can handle?
Bullshit.
I don’t believe that.
We’re all just waking up and putting out little fires every day and everywhere.
Tornadoes. Earthquakes. Viruses.
Aging and death become the season you are thrust into with little preparation.
I’m here.
I’m okay.
I’m strong enough.
Adulting is a fucking bastard.
Adulting with a mental illness is exhausting.
I have been quiet because I need all the angels and energy reserves to walk through the fire and ice.
The silence has been a blessing.
I can hear myself and the spirit guides.
Time was never going to wait until I caught up, learned the lesson, or figured out my goddamn motherfucking purpose.
That’s the joke.
Home has always had an entirely different meaning for me.
I’m just a spectator watching the world whirl by.
Find the ones who love you and love them back.
Unconditionally.
It’s easier to walk through it broken and blessed.
Hope you’re doing okay and finding a soft landing.