I got out of bed today
I didn’t really want to
I barely had the strength to
But I did it.
That counts, right?

I brewed coffee instead of pouring whiskey
felt the steam on my face
instead of the burn down my throat.
A kindness I didn’t think I deserved
But I took it anyway

How do I love myself?
Maybe it’s in these moments
in the choice to try
Where I choose gentleness over destruction
Not in grand gestures
or loud declarations—
just quiet survival.

I didn’t conquer the world today,
but I stayed
And that matters
I chose me,
in the simplest, smallest way.
I chose me,
in the way I know how:
a cup of coffee,
a moment to breathe,
a refusal to give in.
And maybe that’s where it starts—
loving myself in the in-betweens,
in the morning coffees,
and in the simple fact
that I’m still here.

Today, I got out of bed.
I made coffee.
I chose gentleness,
even when destruction called my name.
And maybe that’s all the love I need right now.
Tomorrow?
I’ll try again