I am down. Depressed, I guess. I’ve been here before.

The difference this time is I know how to fix it. But I can’t. Long story short (without spilling all the gruesome details) is that I feel that I am in a place where I can no longer be true to myself, and to what I believe my soul is called to do, in order to please someone else. Good joke is that the other person isn’t even happy with my efforts anyway. Which I suspected would happen.

And I know no one reads this, really, but if someone did, it would be so obvious that of course I shouldn’t compromise my own self and well-being and basically my SOUL for anyone else. But it’s not always that simple, I guess. Or maybe it is and I’m so messed up to even understand it.

Only a small handful of people know what’s going on with me, and those that do don’t really care about my truth or what is happening to me. I’m only told that I am wrong, and I must change. Do they not understand that denying my own internal truth is destroying me? I suspect they do, but they don’t care. No one cares enough to try to really understand me. Not something I can really be mad about, since it’s rather hard to explain it myself.

But. I do know that if I allowed to just be true to myself and to my understanding of God and the universe, I am happy. Blissfully, joyfully happy, optimistic, calm, and completely full of hope and peace. But no, they tell me. I’m wrong. I’m bad. I have to stop. I have to deny it all. It doesn’t matter if that sends me spiraling into a pit of confusion and darkness.

Can you imagine having all that internal peace and joy and completeness? I never could, until I discovered it and accepted it, along with everything else in my life and existence. Now imagine finding it, and then having to leave it behind. To place it on someone else’s altar, to please them, even though you are sacrificing yourself to a place where you are only focusing on the thought that at the end of this life, you will be able to be free from the denial of your own soul. Counting down the days, almost, even though there’s no way to know how many days are left.

Anyway. I’m not talking about writing, even though writing isn’t getting any better with this tied around my neck. And now I have critique group tomorrow and a writing retreat tomorrow and I don’t want to do either. I just want to do nothing in my bed and feel sorry for myself.

Sorry this was dark and weird. Like I said, I’m not great at explaining it. But I know I found my truth…and I had to turn my back on it. And it’s pretty awful. Hopefully things will be better soon. idk.