My window looks out into the middle of four apartment buildings. I see people scurry by all day. They all seem to have so much purpose. Some of them even seem genuinely happy. It’s the middle of winter and I’m curious how that’s possible when we live under a constant blanket of greyness. What kind of light do they carry inside themselves that protects them from the malaise I feel.

I’ve never been good with in-betweens. Waiting out the time from an ending and a beginning. And there are so many beginnings coming up. I mean, I think. I hope.

It must be frustrating for my friends and family. One week I’m riding high on all my plans, confident that these lulls are worth savouring. That everyone should have more downtime. The next week I’m lost, there’s no focus, or worse - a state of despair overcomes me about my future.

Honestly, there are hundreds of contributing factors. The weather, my finances, family drama, the weather. I wish I could control them all.

Also as an update to my last post, my apartment rearrangement was a huge success. I temporarily jolted myself into a new state of being, feeling somewhat like a new person for a short while. Many of the main characters are very much the same but the push in a different direction was enough to start something inside of me and I’m grateful for that gentle movement.

These days though I find I’ve fallen back into an old mental routine. Doubt, fear, resignation. The experience is familiar but not the same. This “new” me sees things slightly differently and wants to crawl out from under the weight of all those dark emotions rather than wait for the outside world to rescue me.