the 13th
its midnight on friday october 13. i’m on my porch– you know what that means. im bundled up. i overdressed. its quite mild outside. i dress in anticipation, with hope of the cold to come. my scarf smells of mildew. googled what mildew means. maybe its not,, anyway. reminds me of my grandma. she bought me this scarf, and its a really nice one.
i just submitted a take home midterm for geometry. half the questions easycake half too hard
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it’s the next tuesday now, i’m in writing class. (i just need to get this post out there.) yesterday my therapist said that it was something to celebrate that i was able to sit with the imperfection of submitting that exam on friday night, and of not entirely finishing the book i had to read for a different class earlier that day. she’s right! my life didn’t totally fall apart when i only managed to read 4.5/6 chapters. and i’m gonna be fine in math. but it was uncomfortable, for sure. so that was a weird night.
i think its partly because there’s a fear of it coming back [the depression]. remission might be a better word than recovery, she said. because it’s not in my control, really. but i still keep trying to make certain the uncertainty. to curb my own successes with unforgiveness.
* * *
sunday night i wrote this poem:
it’s about being feeling a little lonely. moreso wanted to capture how i was doing right then and there, what i thought about my life from the vantage point of that exact moment. i like how it turned out. need to do it more need to do it more
gtg,
but talk soon,
k8
