Lost in the Weight of It All

It's a Thursday, and here I am again, staring at the same screen, checking for something—anything—some new client, some hope for a job, a chance, a lifeline. I keep refreshing the inbox, but there’s nothing, just the sound of silence mocking me. The cycle is relentless. I can’t even count how many times I've gone through this routine, just hoping today would be different, that maybe this time something would break the drought.

But nothing.

My body aches—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I’m on my period, and it feels like everything inside me is crumbling. It’s like my body decided to remind me that it can betray me in multiple ways all at once. I try not to stress too much because I know it’ll just make things worse, but how can I not? It’s impossible to sit here, feeling the way I do, and not wish that life would just…change. My stomach hurts from the cramps, but honestly, it feels like my heart hurts even more.

I wish I was lighter. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I’m carrying so much, and it’s suffocating me. I keep imagining what it would feel like to be 80, even 100 pounds down. I dream about it every day. What would my life be like if I didn’t have this weight dragging me down, making me feel like I’m stuck? Maybe I’d feel a sense of control for once, maybe I’d look in the mirror and recognize myself instead of feeling like a stranger in this body. Maybe I’d have the discipline to stick to something long enough to see a change. But no, every day is the same, filled with regret for what I haven't done, what I haven't accomplished. Every pound I carry feels like another reminder of my failure.

I fantasize about a new routine, something that feels purposeful and fulfilling, where I wake up knowing I have something to work toward—something that pays off. But instead, I’m just stuck in this loop. I dream about stability, a stable income, not wondering if I’ll be able to pay my bills, not worrying about loans and debts that feel like chains around my neck. I want businesses that actually thrive, not the failed attempts that seem to define my life. I want a car—my own vehicle that’s mine, that I can drive to places that matter, maybe even somewhere to get my hair and nails done, because right now, I don’t even feel like I deserve that.

I feel like I don’t deserve anything.

Even the simplest pleasures—like just feeling good about myself—feel so far out of reach. I imagine what it’d be like to lose the weight, to wake up one morning and not hate what I see in the mirror. Maybe then I’d actually want to treat myself, to go get lunch somewhere that doesn’t feel like settling. Maybe I wouldn’t feel this constant guilt for every little thing. Even Dragon Court closing down—something so small, so trivial—hits me in the gut. It feels like everything I used to enjoy is slipping away.

I wish I had my phones, my businesses up and running, multiple streams of income flowing in like a river instead of this dry, barren desert I’m stuck in. Every time I turn on my phone, I wish there were notifications telling me that things were working out, that my efforts weren’t in vain, that money was coming in. But no. It’s just silence.

I told myself I might go for a walk today, maybe around 4:50 pm, but honestly, I don’t even know if I will. It depends on how I feel, and right now, I don’t feel like doing much of anything. My body is heavy, my mind even heavier. Maybe I’ll just stay in, spread out my clothes, and prepare for the meetings, but even that feels like a chore right now. If I’d known my parents would be gone all day yesterday, I might’ve done my laundry, but who am I kidding? Doing laundry while my period is still raging feels like too much. It’s all too much.

Walking has been the one thing that’s helped me, though. It’s weird, but moving my body, even when everything inside me is screaming to stop, somehow makes me feel a little better. At least for a while. By the time I come back, it’s usually dark, and the night feels like a blanket covering up all the mess for just a few hours. But the mess is still there. It never goes away.

Right now, the house is quiet, almost empty. And I’m sitting here wondering if I’ll even be able to pay the bills for the rest of the year. I can’t remember the last time I bought something as simple as deodorant or toothpaste. There’s no money for it, and honestly, I can’t even see a way out of this hole. The loan I have with Bank of Livingston hangs over my head like a guillotine, and every day, it feels like the rope is getting thinner and thinner. How much longer can I hold on? How much more can I take before everything collapses?

I think I’m beyond help. I don’t say that lightly. I don’t want to admit it, but it feels like no matter what I do, everything fails. Every single thing I touch turns to dust. I’ve tried. I’ve really tried, but it doesn’t seem to matter. It’s like the universe has decided I don’t deserve a break. I don’t deserve anything.

And then there’s Julio. I miss him. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. He’s the last person I should be thinking about, but I can’t help it. My heart keeps going back to him, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I still care, that I still feel this way, even though I know better. But what can I do? Feelings don’t just disappear because you want them to.

I guess that’s the story of my life. Wanting things to change, but nothing ever does.