Fragile

I should probably start this with a **TRIGGER WARNING** I talk about depression, anxiety, murder. Maybe no one should read this.

This time of year gets difficult for me. The holidays stress me out. The darkness depresses me. The coldness makes me want to retreat to my bed.

I've been worrying A LOT about things that haven't happened and, most likely, never will happen. But, god, life is so fucking fragile. One moment everything is fine and the next moment... Well, who knows? It really upsets me when I think of all the things that could go wrong at any moment. The smallest incident could have disastrous results.

If the car pulled a little too much to the left...

If someone nudged me on the train platform...

If someone broke into my apartment...

If the pharmacy mislabeled my drugs...

If one of us just stopped breathing...

There is nothing I can do about these things. Shit happens. But that's what worries me: shit does happen. All the time. Everything is going along just fine then some 14 year old kills you with a box cutter. Just like that. Just. Like. That. People always say that things don't always happen to someone else. That is a myth you tell yourself. Maybe it is the only way to go on. Because worrying that these things will happen to me is killing me. How do you get out of bed every day if you think "Shit. All of these awful things might happen to me today." You don't.