I Don’t Have Any Answers
Welcome, fellow archivists.
This isn’t going to be a post full of strategies or 5-step solutions. I don’t have answers. I don’t have any neat, Instagram-worthy fixes for feeling worthless, angry, exhausted, or like a failure.
All I have is the truth: I’m still here. I show up. That’s it.
When There’s No Outlet That Works
Every day, I feel like crying. Or screaming. Or fighting someone. Or curling into a ball and disappearing.
Most days, I don’t do any of it. I keep it inside. I go to work. I lift boxes. I nod. I breathe through the rage.
It feels like that, at work, the only time I’ll be acknowledged is: being asked to pick up someone else’s slack, when my mind blanks out and I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, or when I make a mistake and that immediately overshadows ALL of the good work I’d done prior.
Sometimes I don’t even feel angry — I’m just so tired that people assume I’m mad.
But truth is? I’ve tried the healthy outlets.
I’ve done the journaling. The walking. The meditating. The deep breathing. The exercising. The learning. The “focus on your goals” grindset.
I’ve tried cold showers. Better sleep. Better food.
And it all helps… but it’s not enough. Not when the storm keeps coming back. Not when my mind is so convinced that I’m not worth keeping or being around.
I Keep Trying Anyway
I try to channel this torrent of emotions into my projects:
- Writing D&D prompts I may never run.
- Trying to code, even though I spent 10 years thinking I wasn’t smart enough.
- Taking online courses that might help one day.
- Working two jobs.
- Keeping myself occupied so I don’t fall into that deep, silent well again.
But most of the time, I’m not healing. I’m just surviving.
Mostly I’m surviving. If you want to read more about these slow projects and quiet experiments, I sometimes write about them in Letters from the Void.
This Pain and Anger Has A Name
I would often ask myself the same question over and over again;
What do I have to be angry about?
That question, that right there, is called “Comparative Guilt.”
This guilt would trick me, maybe it tricked you too, into thinking that I’m not suffering enough as someone going through real suffering to matter.
I have so much good in my life:
- I have caring and supportive family.
- I’ve been living on my own for a few months.
- I chose myself over staying in toxic and diminishing friendships.
- I’ve started my own blog.
- I’m working 2 jobs to aggressively get out of $15,000 of debt.
- I’ve been investing in my retirement and my present for 2-3 years now.
So, what should I be angry, upset, or numb over? I’ve got it so good, someone would want to trade spots with me.
That’s the guilt trying to tell me that I’m not enough, even though I already struggle with combating feeling like a failure, worthless, and not good enough on the daily. It’s trying to say, “give up, you’re not worth it.”
But I don’t give up, I’m stubborn like that. I might be a glutton for punishment because feeling angry, upset, or numb might be the only things I can feel these days. For now, that is enough, until I’m able to learn how to smile and feel content or joy again.
Living Is The Loudest Rebellion I Have
I’ve started believing that the biggest “f*** you” to a world that seems to want you to disappear… is to not disappear.
Not to win. Not to thrive. Not to be impressive.
Just to keep existing, even when it hurts. Even when nothing helps. Even when you don’t want to.
There’s no power move louder than refusing to vanish — even if you’re dragging yourself through the day.
If You’re Still Here Too…
Then maybe you’re like me.
You don’t have the answers.
You’re angry and exhausted and worn down.
But you still show up. Somehow.
And that counts for something, even if no one sees it. Even if you forget why.
This post isn’t here to fix you.
It’s just a reminder:
If all you did today was survive, that’s still resistance.
A Note For Fellow Archivists
If any part of this piece resonates, I’d love to invite you to pause for a moment and reflect on your own journey.
What part of your story feels messy, uncertain, or unfinished right now? Where are you weary, wondering, or wandering? What small reminder do you need today that you don’t have to fit neatly into anyone’s expectations?
You don’t have to share your reflections out loud — sometimes it’s enough just to notice them for yourself. But if you’d like, you’re always welcome to write them in the comments, or even send them my way privately. This space is here so that we can remind ourselves and each other: you’re not alone in this.
If you’ve found something meaningful here, liking, sharing, or subscribing helps fellow wanderers find this little pocket of the internet too. And if you subscribe, you’ll also receive Letters from the Void, my newsletter where I share more quiet reflections, behind-the-scenes projects, and updates before they appear anywhere else.
However you choose to engage — silently reading, reflecting privately, or joining in the conversation — you’re part of this archive. Thank you for being here.
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