The other day at therapy my therapist asked me what I like to do in my free time; hobbies & whatnot. I went to answer her questions but when I went to say something I couldn't form one coherent thought in regards of what I enjoy doing. It bothered me a lot for some reason. Days later, here I am still trying to figure out how the fuck I got so boring. I should have something that makes me want to get up in the morning. Now don't get me wrong, I love my boyfriend and he is the reason I am still fighting this bitch called life, but, I sit here and wonder to myself that once I take away the few people I have, and the job I work.... I have nothing left for myself. I have always wanted to create beautiful things; be good at something; and it eats at my mind that I have no talents. There are people around me that create some of the most beautiful things I've experienced. I want so, so badly to have a purpose that I can't focus on any one thing at a time. I want to find something that I can pour myself into like I poured my whole being into drugs. I think that's what it comes down too. I honestly am so fucking scared that I'm never going to feel the way the drugs made me feel, without them. I don't take interest in anything because at the end of the day no matter how long I've been clean for I will always want the drugs more than anything in this godforsaken world. And it fucking kills me to admit. I'm not better. I can lie to everyone around me, but that's the reason I made this page. This tumblr is made to unapologetically put everything you or I can't say to the people we love or they would never look at you the same. I don't know if anyone will bother to read my posts, but maybe you'll relate or feel less alone. I want to feature other people's ppsts as well. This blog is about total honesty, totally anoymity, and it might keep all those dirty little secrets from slipping out ;)

Xoxo

F