“I don’t know how to cope with being this weak,” my body shrinks even smaller. Her arms cross what feels like a vast distance between us and wrap around my shoulders. My soul quietly shudders at the sudden warmth. It’s hard to breathe, I’m not used to being this raw, rough… broken.

The voices yammer and hammer in my head, and I have no defense. A firm believer in not giving the depression validation, somehow I can’t summon the strength to defy it. I AM worthless. I DON’T have any value. I don’t see any substantial proof around me to show me those are wrong perceptions… I see that I am a burden. I see that I am weak. I see that I bring very little to the table. Who am I to disagree with these facts? These feelings are obviously more informed than I am.

It’s never been so hard to turn it around. It’s getting harder and worse; but is it? I think I’m just adjusting to the changes that I am making in my life and body. I’m not smoking, I’m not drinking; or at least not nearly as much. I am face to face, nose to nose, with every single negative thought. They scream and I cannot get away, I cannot block it out or plug my ears.

The chemistry of my brain locked inside it’s bone prison is undergoing just as much change as the rest of me. At first it was not a choice, why would I stop smoking? Honestly though, it has been a plague against me for a long time. There was a period where I could enjoy it without feeling any addiction. The financial situation has only given me further cause to make better choices. I choose to turn away from addiction, I don’t do it out of obligation. It’s been easier knowing this, but my brain… my body chemistry. The PH of my mental health is changing so fundamentally… I need new tools

This isn’t really what I meant when I expressed a desire for adventure and new experiences.