Mental Health Monday: Positivity Part 2

How about some positivity for this week’s Mental Health Monday post!


Tell me, what is your number one reason to wake up each day?

(That’s meant to sound positive, not like ‘man, what do I have to even get out of bed for today?’, and more like ‘man, I’m so glad I get to get out of bed to _____ today!’

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Burning Bridges that Still Burn

I know I just posted, but it feels nice to get these thoughts out.


Feeling the fear of losing a past lover, of burning a bridge that still burns within you, is a seriously unwelcome, yet familiar, feeling.

Those in committed relationships, in marriages and in worlds of forever, should not feel this way.

Yet still today visions of our skin pressed together, of your laugh, of your hands, sends shivers down my spine and through my soul.

And it’s not just you. It’s the other half of my previous heart. It’s the boy who loved me more than I loved him, that my mind wanders to. It was an impulse never acted on, and now, years later, alone, it feels real to me. It feels like the time he first put his hands down my pants. It feels like the first time I saw him cry and held him. It feels like forever.

Yet neither of these memories are forever. My forever is at home, waiting for me. And I am more in love with him than any of the past impulses, but why is it so hard to let go of them?

 

 

I’m a Creep. Yeah I’m a Weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?


My current state of mind seems like uncharted territory, and I feel odd and out of place.

I am creeping my way around my thoughts, which are out of the blue and unnecessarily off base.

I am not eating regularly (which is regularly a lot), and I am not feeling secure in my home or relationship.

I am concerned I am falling out of love and in love again, with memories and past lovers and my current love.

What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.

50 People.

I am having an extremely hard time trying to dive into work today.

50 people.

50 unsuspecting, innocent, unprepared people.

There is something about this number, this shooting, this time, that makes me incredibly queasy.

I wish I had more insightful things to say on the subject, but I don’t. It is unbelievably sad, and regardless of what you feel toward America and our government right now, this is the time for unity.

Today, I am going to #standwithVegas

 

*Featured Photo Credit Group Tours

Hey, Have I Shown you Albuquerque?

No, I haven’t.

What a bummer for you guys, you’re truly missing out.

How about I just show you?

 

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Sandia Peak Tramway
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Cultural Fineries at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center
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Some Color at the National Hispanic Museum
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Saturday Nights in Nob Hill
abq museum 2
Captivation in Albuquerque Museum
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#ABQAdirondack
Indian Pueblo Cultural Center - Albuquerque
Getting Artsy at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center
Mariachi Band in ABQ
A Streetside Serenade
National Hispanic Cultural Center - Albuquerque
A Classic ‘Please no Photographs’ Rebel Moment – National Hispanic Cultural Center
Sandia Peak Tramway ABQ
Sandia Peak Tramway
Sandia Peak Tramway ALbuquerque (2)
Sandia Mountain Range
Sandia Peak Tramway Albuquerque
The Tram in Action

You know what they say, what happens in Albuquerque doesn’t stay in Albuquerque, it gets posted on a blog.

 

The Other Side – An Intro

She realized she was pushing the knife further into the crease of her neck, the thin red line spilling a single drop, the pressure not yet enough to break through, but enough to cause alarm.

Slowly, she took the knife away from her neck and relaxed her hand which was gripping it.

The man smiled in the corner, one of those smiles that stuck with you in your dreams. It was technically perfect, handsome even, but also frightening, bone-chilling.

She took a sigh of relief, her hand still relaxed, and finally felt like she had a fighting chance.

Just as suddenly as her hand relaxed, her hand tensed, and moved in a quick blur to her left wrist, slicing deeply, effortlessly. She thought the blood would be vibrant red, but it was murky crimson. Her head felt light, and her feet felt weak.

‘It won’t take as long as you think, enjoy the ride’, he said as he came over and dipped a finger into the pool of blood forming. He licked his finger like she used to when baking brownies when she thought nobody was looking.

She felt the light dimming, her thoughts slowing. She looked down at her wrist, the cut so deep she felt her hand would fall off if she moved it. That is if she had the life left in her to move it.

‘I’ll see you on the other side’, he said, and he left.



D.R Breshears