heaviest boots

I feel homesick, which is an awful sickness when you can’t figure out what home is. This does not feel like home. It’s a shame, I adore Colorado, but I have never felt so trapped. It feels a lot like being curled up inside a concrete box with no oxygen..I can’t grow here, let alone breathe. I swear the trees are shrinking back into the ground.

I’ve had my heart set on moving to Seattle. For some reason I’m so convinced I’ll be happy there...in the one city where depression and suicide reigns. Is my mind ticking backwards? Am I walking on the ceiling? I feel the most awkward, difficult to explain, gravitational pull toward that place, but I can’t summon even an ounce of support from my family. I’ve been receiving letters in the mail from grandparents and aunts trying to convince me I’m making a mistake. Am I? It’s very confusing.

This year started backwards, or upside down, or something like that. I feel completely dysfunctional...basically to the point where I can’t do a single thing right. Headaches are back to being a daily thing, migraines weekly. My dreams have taken a bizarre turn this last week. They’re either about taxidermy, death, or enormous books the size of a twin bed. I think I want to bury myself in a bog and see what grows.