In the Dark

I was miserable when I arrived. Beyond tired. Nerves frayed. Cracking up. Not sure I could face this city or anyone in it. But there is something so reassuring about the grime and anonymity. Being here conforms the fact that everything I said I did I actually lived. Which seems more like fiction lately. But I have walked here. Being back is more comforting than I would have thought.

Malcolm, once again, pointed out that I am always unhappy after the first year of being somewhere new. And I was trying so hard to be normal, happy, etc. I still can't figure out why I can't figure anything out. Shouldn't I have a business idea or a novel bursting forth? What is the matter with me?

I'm in the dark in our weird hotel room. Violet is sleeping, white noise blasting. This is the most I've been alone and quiet in so long. I tried to bank solitude. I knew it wouldn't be easy. Except in some ways it is. Being with her, being her mom, is the most unforced thing I've ever done. Watching her delight in the while world - and the whole world delights back - is the very best feeling.

I do want to excel for her, to be confident, high functioning, and most of all, what I wished most of all for her, happy. I keep thinking that maybe I'm closer. But I suffer from terrible setbacks and crises of faith. I vow to make a more concerted effort to make myself into the person I should be. I want to live a lovely life. It won't begin when I'm ready. Here we are. This is it. Fight!