Drag yourself through the day I don’t care, just get through the day. I hate that this is my mindset for the day but so be it. I rather not spiral into a thought paralysis. I rather drag myself and get something done, then lecture myself and get nothing done. Can’t change what it is. Can’t change my reality. At least not in the immediate present moment. Not logically at least. I can always burn it all down, give up and run away. I I won’t do it but I like knowing it’s always an option. I just need some nature in my life. I need to take myself to the outside world and remind myself of how big the world really is. There is room for me and my dreams in this place. There are plenty of spots left, there’s one with my name on it. It will happen, in due time it will happen.
Some days don’t need to be heroic—they just need to be survived. There’s strength in dragging myself forward when nothing feels worth doing. It’s not pretty, it’s not inspiring, but it’s real. I could sit around analyzing why I feel like this, but that won’t carry me anywhere. Motion will. Even if I’m crawling. Even if I’m cursing the whole way through. The goal isn’t to feel better—it’s to stay in motion long enough for clarity to catch up.
There’s always that voice offering escape. Telling me to burn it all down and vanish. And maybe I never will. But knowing it’s there reminds me I still have a choice. Every day I choose not to give up is a silent victory. The world isn’t closing in—it’s just that my lens has gotten too narrow. I forget how big it all is. How much space there really is out there for someone like me to take up.
So I’ll go outside. I’ll let the sky recalibrate me. I’ll look at the mountains, the trees, the open road—and remember. There’s room. More room than I’ve been letting myself believe. This world is wide, and it’s not done making space for me. My place in it hasn’t disappeared—it’s still there, waiting for me to walk toward it. So today I drag myself. Tomorrow I rise again.
