Life isn’t easy at all right now. I basically broke down in a diner when I regaled Korey with details on how I basically lost all hope for existence.
Shit was bleak.
BUT NEVERMIND THAT.
This is about what happened after. How, in the darkness of a cool October night, Korey and I went back home, where I started to listen to the music of my youth, and I returned back to myself.
It’s amazing what memory does to lift the spirit. I’m currently listening to “Jack’s Lament” from Nightmare Before Christmas, and it has done absolute wonders in soothing me. Just like Jack, reeling from the defeat of trying to make Christmas his own, I begin to feel “my own bony fingers again,’ and I am snapped out of my depression, and into a more comfortable version of myself.
I hate living here. I hate that I feel stuck. I hate that I can’t do jack shit but wake up super early, sit in an hour to an hour and a half traffic in the morning, turn around, do it again FOREVER till…what? 309 days?
None of this is awesome nor eloquent, but I have to jot it down. Not just for myself, but for others. Things are…rough. This year is going to be a long one, and honestly, living in this city is the worst thing for me. It’s too big. I live too far away. I have too much of a commute.
No one that knows Atlanta can fault me for any of this. I feel like I am on the losing side of every which way equation.
Still, I found God.
As of this week, Krystal N. Ladue is a convert to the Catholic Faith.
I have really, super duper, personal reasons for all of this, but they will stay really, super duper personal. I just tell everyone that I am going full Flannery O’Conner, and leave it at that.
I miss the Krystal “Lucille” of 2008-2013. They had more than what I will ever have now — the blind faith of honest hope.
I don’t do that anymore. I have lost *literally* (and I do mean literally) almost everything that I have loved/held dear.
There is nothing left, save for my mother and sister.
I am in free reign to do as I wish.
That is where I am letting God step in.
I have my cat to think about.
Some call it “fatalistic.”
I call it, “FUCK YOU. YOU DON’T KNOW ME.”
But honestly, I believe in the tenets of the Catholic Church. I just don’t believe in any of the anti-woman anti-feminist shit.
Don’t worry about me. I wrote an entire diatribe about this, and the internet ate it.
Just get this.
Depressed? Yes. Hateful? No.
But, I am allowed my religion. I just need God now. I have nothing of myself to offer.