This post was inspired by the shortness and sweetness of this blog post, (which I found to be incredibly beautiful, poignant, and full of courage. Thank you.)
We all have a story, and creative platforms such as music and lyrics, film and television, theater and spoken word allow such discourse regarding the most tangled up parts of ourselves. For all else, perhaps, there’s this.
Sometimes I’m so overwhelmed that it can feel like I’m screaming inside, that I hope so much that I am still calm on the outside.
I feel, very strongly. The peaks and highs are fantastic, the lows are horrible, and the sparks are powerful at best. Always in need of harnessing.
I constantly worry about whether or not I’ve done the right thing. There have been instances where I’ve been physically incapacitated in doing so.
I think about death a lot, mainly about how one day we, too, will be gone, and not many people will be aware of the difference. It keeps me in check, but mostly, it has me on an even albeit downward-facing keel.
I have been recovering from eating disorders for 17 years and probably will never recover completely. However, I have made major improvements and tend to operate with logic more than impulse. I do hope to recover in the physical aspect, and realize that will take more mental recovery as well. Never one without the other.
I am very much obsessive compulsive. Rituals and numbers and the ability to escape are important to me. I have rationalized some fears in relation to the disorder, but sometimes, it’s black hole central. Talking myself down is never fun, but at least I can.
I rarely get sick in the traditional sense, but there have been times where facing the outside world and being functional just wasn’t going to happen so… mental health day for the win. (I’ve only taken one this year.)
I have found that holding myself accountable in a personal journal or check-in via the mirror has helped me iron out some things. I don’t intend to be on medication but I definitely would like to enter therapy, hopefully by year’s end.
I’d like to think that I’m crazy enough to work.