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2017-09-28 - 11:08 a.m. - In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel... I love that song. It's Lana del Rey-schmaltzy and rather sacrilegious. That last actually makes me feel guilty for liking it. But I like it. What is wrong with me? Can't a girl do things in utter privacy without guilt? Nope. Feel sort of like I'm coming up short. Floundering. There's no reason for it; work is fine, money is being made, career is strong, health is improved, I'm handing my business, I feel confident and safe in my solitude, I don't have any depressive traits, no chemical imbalance, nothing tangible is actively wrong. Yet...I feel desperate for some sort of relief. Will money solve this? If I am granted some sort of settlement regarding my husband's death and get a financial boost that can help me get the hell out of here and relocate faster, and pay things down/off faster...will that relieve me? I'm not actively struggling so I can't be sure that's the cure. It seems it can't be...just money. The damn shoe has dropped. THERE IS NO OTHER SHOE. There is either no other shoe, or there are a thousand more shoes, an endless parade of shoes, yet to fall. Either way, it's stupid to worry about. So why do I do it? I know what makes people go over the edge. People who can't control those feelings of despair and struggle and floundering and worry and failure. They just go right over the edge. I can control it, but I see very clearly what makes them fall off. I'm grateful that I have the control and optimism I have. Life is not a series of punishments. There will be a place of comfort and satisfaction. I'm going to find it if it kills me. free hit counter � � 0 comments so far
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