“My life is a struggle.” Voltaire
Today I felt miserable.
You could have wrung the despair out of me. How would the misery look and smell? It would look muddy gray and lumpy. It would smell soggy, musty, and a bit like Avon.
I’m feeling low because I haven’t been able to find a job and triggers are creating a loop of scary memories in my mind.
I’m tired of being strong. I want to cry. I want to be held and caressed. I don’t want to feel any more pain.
Some days I hate this world, myself, and everyone in it, except of course, anyone who reads this, my family, my friends, and people who are good to me. 
