It’s hard to believe in it all sometimes; the present, the future. This year has started in a way that has changed everything forever. My mum died on Sunday 17th January, at 12:40pm. She was 59. And it was far too early. I’d always wanted her to see me truly happy.
Then in February I met a boy. For the first time in years I dared to dream about sharing a life. But we’re now in a funny place and I don’t know whether he’ll want me or whether I’ll wait for many more years to come.
Work has become the biggest slog. It has long since ceased to be enjoyable. Out in the wilderness and losing all interest. I just want to find the path to meaningful, high quality output. I want to feel like that’s a “job well done” but I’ll never have the resources.
I’m just sitting here wondering what I have to do to find my place in the world. I do try. I always try. I feel strong and I can find optimism from time to time but sometimes, sometimes, I can’t see a reason to fight my way through. Who am I fighting for?
Graham's blog: politics, poetry, and introspection