Real Slim Candace
Please stand up!!
Hey, Hi, Hello, y’all!! As someone coined with the nickname Mouth of the South, one would think that my silence means trouble. Such isn’t the case, although, my silence bothers me.
I admit I do not like writing and publishing shit that is dark and depressing but when I am in a dark place, I write the closest to how I feel is truest to me. With that said, when I am “happy”, I go silent. I never realized the extent of this but this go-round has me questioning if I will ever publish posts again. Now don’t get me wrong, I do not want to slide back into depression any time soon but damn, will I ever find the elusive balance I long for?
I am on week six of no employment. It’s becoming harder each day to convince myself that bills are important. I know they are vital to survival unless of course I am living off grid but I am not and as this next months bills approach, I find myself more desperate than ever. Desperate to be a functional member of society but in order for me to be functional, I must have a change in perspective. I do want to earn money, that isn’t the problem. The problem is I no longer want to do so by entertaining others who never seem to be satisfied. It’s a struggle and one I find myself in daily.
My mom’s happiness relies on money. Or should I say me making money to contribute. I get it. I totally get it. She is nearing 65 and shouldn’t have to continue working to support not only herself but me as well. This time around she has provided a roof over my head but nothing outside of that and is something she must provide for herself regardless… I know this makes me sound like an ungrateful bitch but I am truly grateful. In the same sentence, she doesn’t seem to care about my mental stability and this has caused me to become calloused when considering things from her perspective. Brat? Maybe.
On the Real, dough
I have fallen backward in my recovery. Not because I have began drinking again but because I am no longer self-reliant. This isn’t a good space for me to be. When I ask myself how got here – again, my only answer is…myself. I ignored key signs that lit a dark sky with neon flashing lights. I have no one but myself to blame and trying to overcome the increasing guilt of that is, well…difficult to say the least. Floating doesn’t seem to be the case much more as sinking has commenced. Treading is more like it but alas my legs are tired.
Today, 10.23.19, is a great day this far. Yeah sure it’s early, 10:00 am, and I sit waiting for an interview at a place I love but here’s the catch…I’m not sure what position I applied for. I dont care. I can either accept the job or walk away, right?!.. The sky is absolutely gorg today. The weather is a crisp fall, reminding me of restoration.
My Favorite Time
I love the fall for what it is about. To me, fall represents going within. I have always felt as though 41 was the age I will perish. And at the rate my life has gone, I have not only welcomed it but challenged it. Nearing my 41st birthday, my tune has changed a bit to…perhaps it is when I will be reborn.
I am planting seeds of hope everywhere I can place them because at this point, honestly, I relinquish control. Do I want to continue living in my own personal hell? I think not and the idea that letting someone in a little may have influenced this shift in focus… Shhhh. I’ll leave that for time to tell.
I am learning about my worth and at this point, I see the broader scope of the damage lacking in this area of life has caused. It is overwhelming.
It is my desire to continue to grow but in order for that to happen, I have to learn to come from a place of love, not anger. Being angry hasn’t worked this far. So I figure, why not try a softer, more gentle approach. Let’s see what’s next.
Much Love to y’all!