The truth is I feel like I’m failing at being an adult.

Yeah.

I always want to be transparent and vulnerable in this space, but I try to not fall over the Cliff of TMI or into the village of Downerville.

But today, I’m gonna dive right over that edge and tumble my way into that town. Here we go.

First of all, I have been straight-up PMSing for about two weeks now.

My hormones are completely out of whack, I can’t stop crying, my body HURTS, and I feel like a panicky failure. I’ve cried about everything from feeling like a bad friend, bad writer, feeling ugly and unhealthy, bad dreams, men on dating sites who don’t want me, and the endings to books. Even the kittens I follow on Instagram sometimes make me want to cry.

I was gonna SLAY 2018, you know? Finally getting all my health stuff figured out … diving in with a big novel revision … learning to love myself, single or not …

But it is just so hard, all of it.

Money. Friendships. Work. Responsibility. Illness. Loneliness. PERIODS.

But I know that my hormones tell me lies. Things will get better. I am not a failure because I haven’t given up. I’m still here, figuring out money and friendships and work and responsibilities and illness and loneliness and periods.

And then it gets better again.

If you want to leave me a one-sentence pep talk, I’d love that.