I owe you an apology. I haven’t failed, I haven’t died, and I haven’t majorly fucked up. But I haven’t been around much to tell you what’s been going on with me, and I suspect you already know why.

Anything that I have to complain about pales in comparison with what’s happening in the world right now, and I don’t know how to deal with it all.

There’s so much happening and everything is happening is so fast, I feel like I am on a rollercoaster, and because there are so many injured and dying there’s no one in the whole wide world to focus on me.

I’m not saying I want a partner, but I understand why in times of major grief folks do choose to partner up, so they don’t have to face the whole world alone.

I am saying however that daily life is a struggle. Between Covid and all the things, it’s a bit much trying to exist as if none of the bad stuff is happening.

I don’t know how they did it in the early ages when people just went to work not knowing if their loved ones were going to come home or not. People in Palestine are doing that every day, just getting up and doing their best to go to work if they have work to go back to, trying their best to just exist.

I went to Pride on Sunday, it was a surprise from Mom and it felt good to be there, but it also felt…hollow.

I didn’t and do not have the joy that I had this time two years ago. Two years ago I was happy and I thought thriving, but as it turns out I was just drowning and not seeing the signs.

We started the day at the Cloverdale Farmer’s Market, which was absolutely wonderful. There were clowns riding bikes (weird I know but super cute), and potato wedges on sticks, we had cotton candy and stopped off at the local Legion for a drink and some lunch.

Then we got on the bus and headed back to Surrey planning to head home, but since the Pride festival was right by the train, we stopped in to say hi to old friends and to make some new ones.

I wrote an entire article on this amazing artist Kim Ross reminding me what Pride’s about on Medium.com because Kim gave me a beautiful t-shirt they designed by themselves that says “Fuck Pride.” Please read the article because I really think it’s a great one.

Being at Pride with my friend, and if I’m being honest, “Person I want to be when I grow up,” Annie Ohana, I remembered I wasn’t alone in my anger, resentment, fear, and anxiety with what is happening in the world now.

It was nice to hug Jen Marchbank and her partner Sylvie, to see them smiling and laughing, when all I wanted to do was curl up and cry. Inside I am hurting, because now that my story is out there, I have nothing to hold onto that reminds me of the old days. I’ve gotten rid of, or lost all the times from my past that reminded me of people who hurt me. And rightfully so, but now I have nothing from those days, and I am stuck wondering what they were for.

So much pain, so much hurt, so much sorrow and pain caused by a small group of people who “decided” I would make “their lives” better, by being their sacrifice.

If I am being 100% honest, I struggle with every day living. With trying to find a job in this economy, and I don’t just mean finding a job at any old place. But finding a job at a company or group that actually appreciates my take on the world is what I am looking for and where I belong.

Whether or not they want me is up for debate, which is why when I started LMBG I was so excited about moving forward in spite of my mental health issues, but even as time passes no matter what happens, I am still struggling because I haven’t yet broken that conditioning that says I’m not supposed to be alone.

In time I will find my footing again, but I don’t think if I am being honest, I took as much time as I needed to after we moved into this apartment. To be quite frank I think I just keep forcing myself t keep going no matter what is happening around me and that’s a habit I am trying to break. So I’m not sorry for not writing every day but I am grateful that when I do write, yall come back to see what I had to say.

Thank you so much for reading.

Sending all my love,

Devon J Hall, The Loud Mouth Brown Girl