Been down hard

This was my river. Those were my mountains. There comes a time, I guess, where a mosaic begins to form, when peices of something just beyond a clear vision coalesce, and we're left with a decision. I make my decisions anymore based on the principle of a simple two-point criterion paradigm: does it benefit my family, and does it fit my aspiration of my growth as a spirit. Complex questions for a simple quotient, and the myriad outcomes are staggering in their entropic array of ramifications. That said, my mosaic began to form and I leapt with all the vigor and motivation I posess. The house. The job. The car. The funny thing about making bold decisions is that sometimes, the shit you don't typically hear about happens.
The bottom line is that I made sound decisions with prudence and research and now teeter on the razor's edge of losing so much more than I can gain. I'm horrifically disillusioned, remarkably sad and haven't felt so alone and hung out to dry in many, many years. I'm not sleeping behind the dumpster anymore, but I certainly feel like I've been run over and have blown to the weeds on the side of the road of life lately.
It's fucking hard to get the momentum back to even being productive, and when there are sick people refusing healing just adding to your load daily, it's so much the more difficult. The road has overgrown with weeds. I've been fighting other creatures to the sides of the path and have lost my way. I'm trying so hard to find even the footpath at this point, but it's fucking hard, and I wanted someone to know. So thank you, inane blog, and thanks to Zee, wherever you are, for forecasting the utilitarian faculties of this strange yet somehow effective mode of release.
I'm holding on to the notion that if I can at very least keep Love in my heart, my mind on God, and respond from the place they both reside, I'll be okay. The better I am, the better my family is, and that's what's important in the bigger picture.
Here's to bigger pictures and better times ahead.
Amen.