Sorry for the silence. My depression teamed up for a fun game of “Who the fuck am I and what is my purpose?” Spoiler: Still don’t know. But I’m still breathing, still a grandpa, and still crazy.
Existential Crisis: Aisle 5
Tag: Survival Mode
Still Showing Up
Some mornings I wake up already at war with my own mind—violent intrusive thoughts, violent intrusive images and don’t forget the 100 miles per hour racing thoughts, no peace. And still, I get dressed and show up to work. Not because it’s easy, but because I’m still here.
If these thoughts ever feel like you might act on them or you feel unsafe, please call/text 988 right away.