haunted by all the same old things & i must remember that i am not a monolith inspiration of gratitude and healing and wellbeing. not every thought needs to be optimized or every reaction perfectly emotionally measured. i cant keep asking myself if im happy and overthinking every anxious feeling, even if some part of me is greedy for more than this.
actually, i am just this very sensitive person. who is often scared. who can be self critical. who was a child once, and innocent. and despite having since become better at regulating the brute force of the worlds indifference, im not much different.
now, i am still often sad. i accept that. and i can, without turning it into crisis. it has become a private practice of mine, being able to regulate the sadness while feeling both damnation and agency in it.
many nights, i spent hours in bed crying and repeating the same phrase to myself over and over again until i felt sick of the sound of my own voice. i was almost outside of myself during these hyperventilating world-ending panic attacks, knowing that if i did not let surface, i am sure would be fatal.
everyone has become more real to me. somehow i am the exception, i hardly feel as if im here half the time, though at least i spend less time feeling wounded and empty. i know i should think more positively---"how fortunate am i to have so much to lose." i tell myself. over and over and over. i can keep trying to fool myself, because deep down i know that most days what i have doesnt really feel like much at all.
who can even appreciate the slowness of healing? to me, its more agonizing than anything; trying to heal again and then having to say 'atleast i tried'. the cycle becomes tedious if you begin hoping. but here we are, not desiring nor looking and definitelyyyy not hoping. from where i come from, thats healing.
