Advertisements
I’ll take my nights alone with my phone and laptop and art. My god, I really think the art is saving my life. It’s letting me get better
And it doesn’t judge me for what that looks like.
The nights when I tear skin off my lips to feel whole
I’m no longer hoping to die.
I’m no longer spending my nights praying that death swallow me before morning.
I’m not great but I’m finally something. People have no words when I explain what happened to me. They look at me with subtle horror etched on their faces.
I’m no longer praying to die
At this point, I can’t process what I’m praying for. I suppose it might be peace, but this feeling of euphoria is so life changing that it’s keeping me on the edge of my seat. All else fades away as I gain more “control”. I’m on the edge of my seat, like I could break windows. I feel like all my decisons will be the right ones. I feel like I cannot fail. I feel. Oh god, do I feel. These nights are simultaneously the best and worst of my life. They are the best because of the feeling of power endued by my raging emotions. The manic highs lead me to feel like I could steal an organ, or that a bolt of electricity would be good for my blood stream. It leads me to complex calculations; it leads me to introspection, most often shared with someone not quite ready for it.
No worries puppet, this mood will be around all night. I’ll be up making rash decisions til the cows come home. There must be more than this. There must be more than this. It’s become my demand, my ever earnest prayer. Like the little girl who prayed so ferverently for health or happiness, I am a little girl, curled up in a ball, who’s just waiting for someone to come to me. Someone to listen, who can maybe TRY to understand what’s going on in these crazy times.
Self preservation is something we learn when we are quite young. We are taught that above all else, we protect our skin. Maybe we will find someone to go to bat for us when the times get tough, but if not we are taught to have our own backs, as things get dicey from time to time. We are educated with the knowledge that we ourselves know us best, that no one can walk in and pretend to know our desires.
You didn’t seem to grasp that it’s a public place. That I was socializing, which is imperative for my diagnosis. Which I LOATHE doing. This house is not my place of rest, so by saying that I came into your TV room to talk, you effectively shut me down for the night. I will not fight to be heard. Unless it’s about my mental health or otherwise important. But if some fat ass woman wants to make a stink about me interrupting her TV time, when who knows I could’ve been suicidal, then so be it. This is nuts and I’m over it. Today was a decent day, had a couple crappy moments here and there, but overall was productive.
One of the hardest decisions you’ll face in life is whether to walk away or try harder.
~z. Abdelnour
If a person either blocks you or ignores you they should also be blocked or ignored respectively.
My logic for this is not one of pettiness, rather one of self preservation. It leaves you looking less the part of the wondering lass or lad and gives you your power back.
More power to you.
#powertothepuppets
You never know when things will change without hope of coming back to Baseline.
– A new diagnosis when the thought of one is too much to handle.
– Threat of divorce marriage you swore would last forever.
Life-altering events can rarely be singularly tied to certain behavior. Wouldn’t that be swell a book with codes in it for every situation and reciprocal emotion.
However when things change there are rarely puffs of smoke to signal that the change has occurred.
