Sometimes, I think I’m just sad. It’s gloomy out today.

I don’t know what to write, but my girlfriend encouraged me to do so. So, here I am. Writing generally makes me feel better so I appreciate the suggestion. She asked me, “Is it because of me last night?”

Last night she came over. We talked and she brought up the fact that I bring my ex up a lot. An ex from what feels like a lifetime ago, but I understand because she see’s him as “the ex”. You know, we all have the ex. I didn’t even realize I had brought him up more than once. It hurts me to hurt her. I feel bad for that, even though I know I wasn’t being malicious. As mentioned, I didn’t even notice.

She was also drunk, a trigger for me. But it was okay because I know she doesn’t have a problem with alcohol like many people in my life do. It’s just the alcohol, the trigger. Alcohol = bad sometimes.

But I don’t think that’s why I’m sad. I don’t know, maybe it is. I feel like I always fuck up.

This morning I didn’t bring Olivia’s homework over to her dads house for virtual school. Another fuck up.

I don’t like feeling as though I have “fucked up” and I get really hard on myself. Maybe that’s my problem today. And the fact that I haven’t seen the sun in days. My days have been filled up to the brim, I’m exhausted. I am applying to get my doctorate and I’m worried I won’t get in or I won’t be good enough. I’m finishing my yoga teacher training soon, same feelings. Which is kind of funny, because I’ve already accomplished a lot in my 27 years. I prove myself wrong again and again.

But today I just want my bed. I want to sleep the day away. I hate feeling like this.