Life sucks at times. Even for the most positive. Actually, the eternally positive as I like to call myself. Nothing can pull me down, things always get better, there is always a silver lining. But sometimes, when alone, I admit that it sucks. That maybe it won’t get better. That maybe it will get worse, that maybe, just maybe it is horrible and it will never get better.
I always, and I mean always bite off more than I can chew. I thrive in busy-ness, in being overwhelmed. I like a challenge. I like not knowing if I can make or not, because I know deep down that I will. I always have and I always will. And there I go again, being positive even when I don’t mean too. Every time I try to be down something always slips out of my mouth that is positive, that is the silver lining. I can’t help up. I wish I could, but I can’t.
Even in the middle of a breakdown about how many meds I pop a day and the fact that I will never go off them, I realized that it would be okay. That even though I’m technically constantly sick, it will be okay. That even in the middle of an autoimmune disease and a virus that will never fully leave my body, it will be okay. That I’m fucked up and I hurt those closest to me, it will be okay. That I’m 25 and have no clue what I want to do with my life, it will be okay. That I’m in financial distress, but it will be okay. That life in the City is more than I bargained for, it will be okay. It will be okay.
Life has its ups and downs. It goes back and forth. And in the end it will be okay. That’s the brutal honest truth, it will be okay.