Imperfect

I'm not perfect. Little things drive me nuts. 

Anxiety is the bane of my existence. And depression. My self esteem fluctuates. I'm really sensitive, to everything. I try to control it, but sometimes I just can't. 

I'm not crazy. Not really. But anxiety is very real. I try to control it, but that doesn't always work. I'm not pleasant then. I try to do the best I can, despite my imperfections. There's a lot of them. But dwelling on them won't help at all. It'll keep me where I am, or send me backwards. 

That's not how I want to live my life. I want to admit that I'm imperfect, work on my imperfections, and become better. 

Every day is hard. Some more than others. But that's how it's supposed to be. Never easy. 

Until next time,

Please remember that you are loved,

D. J. Lathrop