Fifty.

I've been a downer lately. I'm also having a hard time talking about it sometimes, because even I tire of what I have to say. Of explaining how I just am incapable of helping myself right now. I'm not helping. I know it. I'm weak. I know it. I have the ability to be stronger, I know it, but I can't seem to find it. I'm asking God for help, but I know almost as well as he that I'm not meaning what I'm saying yet. How much do I have to hurt before I'll mean it? Eghads.

There is hope though, there is always hope. It comes in many different forms. People re-humanizing themselves to me and helping me to realize that we're all capable of error, and we're all capable of learning from and moving away from those errors, and becoming people who are worthy of admiration.

Hope filled moments:

Fall is arriving. The leaves are changing to beautiful. I feel sometimes like they're doing it just for me.

I'm going for a bike ride with Ashli tomorrow. It's supposed to be lovely outside.

God loves me unconditionally. I can't wrap my head around it sometimes. But I can definitely feel grateful beyond words.