empty I struggled figuring out what to call this post. I almost just called it “Untitled”. But that didn’t feel right. No words felt exactly right. I was empty and out of ideas.

I’m not sure “Empty” is right either. “Unimportant” felt too dramatic and “Lonely” wasn’t really right either. Guess what time of the month it is? It’s my scheduled dose of emotions and hormones and tears and all the feelings. That is not to say I am negating my feelings, just saying I am used to feeling these feelings and knowing what really causes them to eat at me.

Covid, the pandemic, isolation….they all made me change. In a wide variety of ways. Friendships have changed, relationships with family, we uprooted our lives and moved and I have grown and changed. I am guessing some people might not think these changes are good changes. But I’m ok with that.

I’m trying to give fewer fucks about things that are taking up too much time and energy in my head. And there are a lot of them. I have a hard time letting things go…be that things said, actions, comments, heresay…I just let them stew inside me. Eat at me. Until I’m left feeling empty.

I spent a half hour sitting in my bed today just crying. I don’t know why I was crying. I was just cranky and on edge about everything. Feeling unimportant, lonely, ignored, not good enough, not enough….just empty. All the feelings and emotions just felt heavy. Labeling them felt heavy. Trying to figure out why felt heavy. So I was left feeling empty.

Out of emotions.
Out of fucks to give.
Out of energy.
Out of headspace.
Just out.

So, I come to my blog. My place where you can’t leave comments and tell me things are fine, to get over it, to move on, to just be happy. Because I will. I will be fine. I will get over it. I will move on. And I will be happy. But before you can be full…you need to be empty.