GOODBYE FEBRUARY

 February 28th, 2026

Yesterday, my world seemed to be on the brink of collapse, and this morning it's been made new again. 

I let myself spiral a bit, and I had a good cry over the intensity of my desires not necessarily being aligned with what my current reality could provide for me. It's not a great feeling, but I am working through it as best as I can. 

On the last day of this wonderful month of February, the sun is out. 

The snow from last week's blizzard is melting quickly. Similarly, I am losing reconciling with a lot fo my surfacing debris. It's not a morality thing, only a logistical one. I'm cleaning house, if you will.

This month came with a cataclysmic breakthrough. One that felt like finding hitting resume on a movie after not ever seeing the remote. I've been clumsily moving on, despite it lagging a bit. 

Lag or not, there are new scenes to see, after staring at the same screen for many years. 

I experienced a lot of firsts this month. Life suddenly feels like it's on the brink of excitement. 

I'm not frozen in place, in my misery and gnawing on my own tail for leisure. 

Where I am today:

Connecting with a lot of different people, and enjoying it. 

Somehow connecting doesn't feel as scary as it once did - but it's still too early to tell. 

I'm lowering the gates a bit, making small parts of the house visible for others to see. 

To my surprise, there are visitors outside. I was afraid there wouldn't be. I tried to keep the outside spotless, but was always fearful that once inside, guests would see what I grew up in and be deterred from coming in. Or worse, that they would consume all there was to consume, and leave it wrecked, without regard for it being my home. And then I'd be left cleaning up their mess just so I could continue to exist in my own house. 

I am in a place where I can say to myself..

This is the human being that you are.

The woman that you are. 

The house you grew up in.

The experiences that molded you. 

But you are not imprisoned here. 

You can choose to live elsewhere.

Though, if you sit outside with your bags packed,

No one will drive up to take you out.

But you have car keys, and a brain that knows how to drive.

If you choose, you can simply drive away. 

You own this house, if you want company, you can invite someone over. 

The house isn't nearly as filthy as your shame keeps telling you it is. 

In fact, some people like the way it stands. 

It's unique. Despite the fact that it took a lot of effort to bring it forth - or maybe because it did. 

Don't go scorching everything in this room with incense smoke and charcoal dust,

The smell that is etched into your nostrils only exists in your brain. 

No one else is smelling that awful stench of the filth you used to live in. 

So open the door, let some air in.

Invite over a guest, or two, or three.

You don't have to live like a prisoner any more. 

You can wave goodbye to February. 

- vetiveroil