planting more seeds: what makes a garden
v. turning angst into hope
I’ve been amidst a vulnerable state a lot longer than I’d like to admit.
I feel myself — every inch of my body — growing in pessimism; I’m becoming my father, and that is something I never wanted to be.
I feel so starved and unfulfilled, yet near everything emits distasteful.
I feel as if I’m losing my color, fading more grey by each day.
I don’t care what becomes of me, I don’t care if I never wake up tomorrow…I often feel as if already lifeless.
I’d forgotten not only to broaden my garden entirely with various color, but to also water my single sprout of hope towards healing from borderline personality disorder.
I’d forgotten to hope for something else…to give life a nuanced meaning, as I slowly waned in stamina to water myself with lighthearted input, from thoughts to media consumption, allowing myself to fall back into detrimental habits.
And with that, I’ve allowed weeds to linger and thrive.
I began to dive deep into introspection to seek other seeds of hope, desperately longing to be planted and worked towards.
To which I merely found an abundance of worry, angst, and fear:
I’ll be 27 in November…with my window to start a family slowly closing day by day, and a chance to find a healthy and safe romance in this modern world prominently slimmer.
Not only so, but I also don’t want to rush into starting a family; I have a list of things I want to do before then…which include getting married, travelling, and finding a stable place to live.
And alongside finding a stable place to live breeds even more angst, for the prominent: the outrageous costs of living, but also my dreams of living as a snowbird — living somewhere cool in the summer and coming back to leisure in my home state (Arizona) during the cooler season.
Where do I even begin…
However, beneath all my fears and anxieties, is where I found hope entirely: a hope to be a mother one day (in time), and to have a place to call home of my own.
And the match of motivation and life sparked again once more…and off I went to grab the shovel and gloves, digging away at the once dried dirt to plant seeds of hope in various colors, prepared to pull out the countless weeds I’ve allowed to claim my garden as their own.
attending my garden, a series
