A letter from Jan 06, 2024

To me, I originally thought this was stupid but though currently I’ve nobody to talk to I’m gonna vent here. The letter I wrote from 2020 placed a lot of hope in me and I’m not saying the hopes misplaced, but the only things different from then is I know more and feel less if that makes sense. Since grandma moved In ma has been drowning mentally between fighting with grandma to get healthy and her job at uhs, her own health is going bad and at this point she doesn’t mind if it takes her. I thought I was going to move to Japan by 2028 and have a few properties and live successfully because there won’t be much here after ambers in college, but truth is I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Before I talk about me I want to express that I’m extremely proud of stinky. COLLEGE man, that’s crazy! I keep forgetting the major but I couldn’t be happier for her. She’s moving into her dorm in a few days and I want to help after work. Speaking of which my 21st birthday was cool, actually tiff tiff and nae took me and stink to Buffalo Wild Wings, the food wasn’t great but I genuinely had a good time. Tiff just moved into a new apartment too. The one she works at so she gets a discount on the rent and such, that’s really dope. I tried applying to a place like that but got no reply. Honestly I’ve applied for quite a few jobs the past month and a half and the wells dry. Moms got a bunch of jobs lining up and she’s excited about em. Things here aside, to my knowledge Ajs ok I don’t know if anyone’s heard from him in a while but I need to email him soon. Eventually. Now that the family’s done I’ll talk about me. I’m sure you remember the feeling, but it’s always quiet. Like pin drop quiet. Even while typing this it’s too quiet. And in case there’s anyone other that me reading, I can’t self diagnose myself with what I assume is depression, but the best way to put it is that I feel hollow. That I’m constantly walking through water and no matter how hard I work nor what I feel if done is right, something’s always off. Like the work is never done. Like I’m forgetting something and I can never sleep until it’s finished, but whatever IT is I can’t find it. If for some reason I think I deserve a break or a reward for the days or weeks work, karma bites my *** hard and I regret it immediately. I’m angry all the time still but no outlet to direct it. Nobody but you to vent to, but I shoulder the frustrations of anyone who trusts me enough to voice them. I don’t even know why. Because I’m easy to talk to? I don’t speak a lot so it’s easy to find an ear in someone without a voice. Thinking back to the previous letter again, there was a lot of misplaced optimism, judging by the fact that I hadn’t figured anything out then and even now I’m still stuck flirting with the idea of not being here, to use mom’s phrasing. I’m gonna make things easier on us both and not say “figure it out” but instead: Get there, do your best, because I’ll do the same. So take a drink for me now and I’ll find one later. To doing what I can with what I have. From me