September 25

I turned 59 today, and I am nowhere close to where I want to be.

I feel scared of the rest of my life. Scared I’ll never have the things I’ve longed for. I’m worried about my health and what the years of drinking, drugs, self-harm, and living in survival mode have done to me.

I worry about losing my memory, my strength, and my ability to take care of myself. I don’t want to forget my life or the people in it. I don’t want to die with regrets or sadness. I don’t want to go through the rest of my life alone, and I don’t want to die unloved.

I am scared there isn’t enough time left—that I’ve wasted so many years I cannot get back. I worry that this is it for me; that there is nowhere left to go. I don’t even know if I have the energy or strength to keep going.

I think about all the things I could have done differently. The ways I should have taken better care of myself, spent more time with family and friends, built healthier relationships, pursued opportunities, gone back to school, and taken the time to see all the good there was in an ordinary day.

Instead, I lived in my own self-made prison, drowning in pain and reaching for what I thought would soothe me, when it only dug the hole deeper.

Some days, I just want to close my eyes and never wake up.

And yet…

There is something inside of me telling me it is not too late.

It is telling me to keep going.

Because if I do, I will be reborn.

But in order to be reborn, I will have to die first.

Thank you for being here. 

With Love,

— Cindy ❤️