Day 16, May 16th, Thursday: Something difficult about your “lot in life” and how you’re working to overcome it.
Honestly, today’s challenge appears to be a little vague for me. I don’t know why, though. I didn’t know what to write in here and talking about school seemed inappropriate since my summer class is finally over starting today. I can say that I don’t have a lot of difficult stuff going on these days, aside from some issues I’ve gotten myself into. I guess I’m too wrapped up in my own world that I’ve come to love the facade of emotions I’ve successfully worn for weeks now. If there’s something difficult, it’s trying not to care about what’s actually happening. As much as I don’t want to mention about this, I think it’s just wrong not to be candor.
It’s difficult acting like you no longer care when all this time you want to do something to get everything back on its proper place. It’s hard to stay like you’ve got nothing to let out when in fact you’re all set to explode, just waiting for the right time. It’s even harder when every time you encounter a thing that reminds you of what used to be, it’s not the broken friendship that makes you sad, but the strings of memories that flash its way back into your mind that make tears want to well up inside you.
I know I pretty much made you, reader, aware of how things are in this life of mine through my recent posts. It’s tiring to speak about things like this when all I want is to go on with my life. Greater things are in store for me and with God’s grace, I’ll feel better. Maybe not now, but soon.
How I’m working to overcome this is a different story. As much as I want to get mad with people who’ve hurt me, I can’t. I’m praying for them. Reader, if you think it was easy for me, well… think again. God won’t let me carry this alone, I know it.
Hope I’ve made some sense. How about you? What’s something difficult about your “lot in life”?
P.S.: Isn’t it cute? I mean title. It’s title Untitled and it’s already titled. Pardon my nonsense thoughts but uhmm okay. 🙂
The damage was permanent; there would always be scars. But even the angriest scars faded over time until it was difficult to see them written on the skin at all, and the only thing that remained was the memory of how painful it had been. — Jodi Picoult