Dear Diary,

Dear Diary,  July.13.2026

Life is so strange. 

Everything can change in an instant. I recently sustained *another* injury. 

I keep thinking that the universe is telling me it’s my time to die. 

Perhaps that version of self before I got hurt did. I feel like a fog is being lifted from my mind. The feelings of my own soviernty arise within me. 

I find that I too have fallen prey to judgement, and had internalized it. I’ve been caring shame and pain like it was my job.

I was told to put it down.

I wasn’t truly living my life for my own happiness. 

I was living my life for my goals only. 

I’m wanting to create life that has meaning. A life that I truly feel happy. I suppose that I’m not doing what make me feel happy enough. 

There’s always a construction in my chest and a darkness looming around me that I don’t understand. 

I think it has a lot to do with expectations. I feel the expectations of society and then also in my own interpersonal relationships. 

I’m trying to figure out who I am when my subconscious is not busy trying to prove myself. 

I’m recognizing that I need people. That I need help, I need reassurance. I need for others to wish me well when I feel down. I need reciprocity. 

I carry the shame of a past no one can see. At times it’s hard for me to recognize that my efforts were valuable although unrecognized by others. 

I wonder if there’s a word for feeling alone in crowded rooms. I suppose I needed to recognize that i was never alone in the first place. That people were rooting for me even though they disappointed me. 

I fear that newness doesn’t wish me well. I’m not sure where it came from. I don’t want that belief. I don’t want that sadness. I just want to be hopeful without doubt. Hopeful without fear. 

I hate the small eating voice inside me that says I’m undeserving of this life and that I’m better off dead.

Why do I think like that??

When did this small creeping thing take over. I feel I've been fighting so long to find sacredness. Fighting so long to hold my silence and have my peace.

But the walls of my room get too quiet. The heart of my soul quickens , and I get scared when I loose my momentum. 

I realize how lucky I am. To still have this life. To still have the opportunity to continue to follow my dreams. To follow my heart into the unknown. 

Many lives are constantly lost, due to fear and negligence. 

I can’t let my fears control the mission of my life. 

I have the ability to create my own momentum. That looks like getting up and doing the shit I said I was going to. Not listening to those nagging voices in my head telling me my life was never good enough in the first place. 

Fuck that. 

The winds of change beacon me, 

They whisper Saaaarraaaahhhhhhhhhh be who you areeeeeeeeee. 

Don’t let the oils of evil slip down your throat and tell you its water. 

Getting up and trying again is rebellious in a way. I refuse to be put down. I will rage and rage on. 

Theres something about the feminine rage that calls all the power of the woman before you. Telling you hey, young ho, rise up and burn.  Burn through those trials, there is strength here for you.

Idk i’m feeling a sense of liberation. Off with the sadness. 

Xoxo Sarhngel

Also posted on my substack, but you’ll see if here first if you subsrcibeeee.