I am having a shockingly good run (and by that I mean two weeks, it’s been a wild wild ten years), it’s been chaos but I am feeling hopeful and passionate and not manic which is a really great sign. I’m healing, I’m healing from a long long run of what amounts to shit luck, isolation, and circumstance. I’ve also worked really hard to keep the strength and lessons in mind through the last year. Today I learned how to make soup and pasta sauce, while I got to spend time with my second favorite family outside of my own, there’s lessons, I think, in cooking much like in art, don’t get angry when you mess up, don’t get anxious when you’re learning a new skill, start over if it’s not rescuable. Comfort with friends, especially friends that make you feel at home, is so important. Soup and cooking (which I’m only mildly scared now), is also a huge comfort.
The outpouring of love that I’ve gotten over the past few years of my life is unreal, and I know I’ve been a lot, I know I’ve been difficult and sometimes outright unpleasant, but your love and acceptance of my wild life changes and low patience. I love you, I see your support, and I’m right there with you.
I think I can say for the first time in my recent memory I am content and looking forward to the next chapter of my life. I feel like an artist. I haven’t felt like an artist in years.