2024 was not it.

Back-to-back Ls, more than I can deal with. And no, I’m not talking about the material things. Those we can always make back. It’s the other losses that weigh heavier, the kind that cut deep and leave scars that no amount of time can heal. The ones that strip away parts of you, leaving something broken, fragile, and bruised mentally.

Some losses, they mark you, redefine you in ways you didn't ask for. They take pieces of you that you can never get back. In their wake, you’re left with memories that burn and the constant struggle to push through the mental fog they leave behind. It’s like running on empty, barely functioning, yet somehow still going, using whatever reserves you have left just to make it to the next moment.

I’m down to three brain cells at this point. One is typing this, and the other two are working overtime to keep me composed. It’s a delicate balance between holding it together and letting everything fall apart, but somehow, I’m still here, maintaining, even if just barely.

This year hasn’t been kind. It’s been ruthless, relentless even, serving loss after loss, leaving me wondering if there’s any way out of this cycle. Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. But as much as I feel broken, I’m still trying to move forward, even if it’s slow, even if it feels like I’m crawling through the wreckage.

Here’s to hoping for better.