Dive into your creative stream
here we go again.
mundane.
yesterday was less than mundane. i had an actual panic attack, although at least not earth shattering. this goddam broken brain of mine has ruined so much, and yet it still manages to say loud and clear how much of a failure i am. why can’t it suck at that? instead of not letting me finish a book, or pushing me to do everything all the time and worry about all the possible outcomes.
i asked my therapist why i was so damn tired - (for a variety of reasons i’m sure) and we landed on “it is exhausting to try to control your thoughts and words and actions, and be mindful of what you say and do and think all day, every day”
the epiphany before that was that my body remembers the feelings of fear at a cellular level, so even when i can logic my way out of something the physical part of it is often out of my control.
other therapy gems:
manage you expectations
people show you who they are, believe them
i’m sure there are more, but i can’t think of them this morning.
mood swing- don’t feel like writing anymore. gonna go.
In a world
it all came to a halt.
Unbreathing,
disrupted time,
it can no longer flow.
In this world
we are alone,
grasping,
pushing,
climbing—
falling—
Or are we?
Thus we wonder
“what is life?”
In my world
I begin clutching at my chest,
sheltering my heart,
wishing to live
one more day.
Here I hide,
running from what,
you say?
All.
All that breathes
while I cannot.
All that feels,
while I bear its weight.
All that smiles,
for I do not know how.