What do you do when the forests feels too loud,
too fast,
and too unfamiliar to your pain?

for about two and a half years,
maybe three,
i isolated.
i was dealing with…

Another heartbreak that cracked my ribs open,
friendships that faded into the abyss,
my checking account was on life support,
and the devil handed me a bouquet of problems I didn’t ask to hold.

the burnout i was suffering with was real AF.
it was one of those seasons of where i nosed dived off the mountain,
but this time,
the fall felt steeper and heavier.

the rope snapped that was protecting me snapped and i didn’t notice until i hit the ground.

i felt useless,
hopeless,
and while some people probably thought i was spiraling,
what they were witnessing was my personal ritual:

Shutting the forests out,
and the people within it,
to make sense of it all.

when survival mode kicks in,
my instincts don’t lead me to people:

They lead me back inside myself.

…but this time,
the climb back up?
it’s been embarrassingly slow and truthfully,
i can’t stand being around people when i feel broken.
so i cancelled,
i missed out,
and i retreated to the only place that didn’t ask for explanations:

My space.

i still talked/texted to a few folks.
i even showed up for the small stuff,
the things i could manage without dealing with too many people.
the other shit with the noise,
the chaos,
the “on“,
the “so what do you do?“,
and the energy i couldn’t match:

Nah,
that was on a auto-cancel.

lately though,
something has started to shift.
this landlord shit shook the dust off my eyes.
this always happens when i step away to figure shit out.
i’m ready to make moves to be back outside again.
hell,
i even want to date again.
while i don’t have it all together just yet,
i’m trying in tiny but hesitant steps.
that’s all i’ve got right now and:

I’m accepting that might just be enough.