I hate October.

I hate October.

It’s a month that has always been bad to me. It starts with my birthday early in the month, which, to me, has always brought tears. There’s something about my birthday that reminds me how much no one really cares and that people never show up for you in the same way you show up for them.

I literally don’t celebrate it. I just celebrate my half-birthday, and on the actual day, I try to serve in whatever way I can so I’m too busy to cry. Then I cry.

A few weeks later is the passing anniversary of someone I cared about. I don’t think I’m quite ready to even think about it yet.

I’m trying to mentally prepare this year for what is to come. It’s like I have the Sunday scaries, but for the whole month of October.

My dog, who will be 18 on October 25, will probably pass in October. There’s a huge home renovation that is an even bigger financial burden that I know I need to deal with. Overall, I just can’t help but feel this October will shake me in ways I’m not ready for.

I’m trying to prepare as much as I can, but if I’m being honest, I’m terrified.

I’m scared that when the anniversary of my friend’s passing comes, I’ll get in the hole that day brings, and it’ll be another battle to breathe.

I’m scared that when the day comes for my dog to see heaven, I will enter a bigger hole that I may not be able to come back from, and that it will change me in ways I’m not ready for.

I’m scared that I may not be able to weather what October brings.