Over the last couple of years, I’ve been working through some really difficult ideas I’ve had about myself. I’ve stripped myself bare over and over again, trying to find who I am as a person. As an adult, a woman, a daughter, a friend, as a human. I couldn’t catch even a shimmer of self-worth in any of it-I felt like I was nothing. Worth nothing. Could do nothing. Couldn’t be anything but the existence of a body, tutoring-on the edge of life and death.

I didn’t want to die, but I had no idea if I wanted to live.

I didn’t think I’d make it this far in life, ten years past the expiration date I gave myself back in high school.

Somehow, I’m still breathing, but with a brain that was so prepared for death it now seems to stall when life came rushing at it. I fucked up friendships on purpose, avoid and hurt men who wanted and did in fact love me because of how poorly I think of myself. I kept my life on pause and kept everyone almost at arm's length. Letting them know a version of me that was soft and light, never letting them in fully to see how twisted my brain makes me think of myself. I kept telling myself that people didn’t want to know me, that I wasn’t worth knowing.

And for a really long time I used writing as an outlet, creating worlds, alternative universes where love and life always won. Yet I could never complete them.

I let the story hit a peak and then it was nothing. Not because I didn’t see the story in my head playing out but because I genuinely did not have the emotional experience of joy to write the happy endings. It was like pulling teeth. So, I stopped, thinking I just needed a break. Needed time to reflect, and I kept trying to come back. But every time I did, I just hit a wall again, and again. Boxing me into a room that just reflected what I hated most about myself.

Incomplete.

I was and still am in ways, incomplete. My depression stripped away a teenage life that I now know I deserved. my anxiety ripped apart any part of my early twenties and now I’m here.

26

I’m 26 and I’m just now finding my footing. I’m just now figuring out that yeah, I do want to live and I actually kind of enjoy life. I love laughter and dancing, I’m great at listening to those around me but I’m also now letting people listen to me. Letting them know me. My best friend’s words from a late night drive turned to deep tearful conversations echoes through bones with every step I take now

“You have to give yourself a chance to live.”

So I did.

It was slow, almost like the way light pushed through a window: how you don’t even notice it in the morning till it’s in your eyes or warming your skin. I didn’t want it, but it was there, bright warm and welcoming, it scared me.

Being genuinely happy terrifies me, but it excites me in way that I can’t even express. I found what I love to do, and not just what interests me, I do dog training now (still in the early stages so any tips on anything will be greatly appreciated). Becoming that bridge between two living beings and helping them coincide with one another so naturally even if it was frustrating to get there is honestly so exhilarating honestly.

I even found writing again, something I was so disappointed and honestly heartbroken about losing. It isn’t a band aid this time; it’s just something I enjoy and love to do.

It was inevitable in many ways that I would come back here, and even though I stripped my blog away from any post I knew it was waiting from me.

I am worried if you all, my dear sweets , my readers, are still here.

And if you are, I hope you can forgive me for leaving without a word and removing my stories, and I hope you stick around, for what? I have no idea honestly.

I just want to write.

Just like how I want to live.

Anyway,

I still remember ur dom/switch? human fem reader X hybrid jikook book from years ago, will u be writing something similar ever again?

Who knew life could actually be a good time? I’m glad we are figuring out life and all the good bits that come along with it.