I have been having a really difficult few months. I am doing everything I can to get out of my funk (medication, exercise, meditation, spending time with friends, laughing, art, writing) but nothing has been really working. This was going on before things ended with J, it isn’t simply a reaction to the break up.
Don’t get me wrong, there has been so much good lately, so many laughs, so much joy.
The problem is how easily I can sink low again. How little it takes to trigger me.
I just sink back into it again and again.
My mind can be a rather dark place at times.
This weekend was tough. I’m not sure why. It was sunny and warm and full of laughter and friends and adventure. Yet I felt this weight, this physical weight, settle over me. I wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for a month.
I wanted to shed my skin, tear off my fat, find myself underneath those rolls that feel like a placard screaming “mentally unwell” to the world, be somehow happy and whole. I didn’t even know anymore if a person existed under all this flesh.
I am so bright all the time. Though they are genuine I keep up my smiles like a shield until I cannot hold them for another moment. And then I am left raw and bare and vulnerable.
I don’t think this piece of me is loveable. I think it is scary and unappealing. I would give anything to leave it behind, never to see it again.
But it is woven into the tapestry of who I am and pulling its threads would pull apart the rest.
So I will take medication.
I will forgive this dark little creature who sits at the back of my mind and I will accept it. I will give it a day, or two, every now and then.
If it wants more I will fight.