Sundays

I wake up on Sundays with my heart racing, a pit in my stomach.

It’s a habit now.

Another week is coming, but what have I accomplished this week? What have I accomplished this weekend? The obsessions never stop.

Things have settled down now. I know I’m on the upswing, but cycles of anxiety grasp at every thought. The meaningless worries, which used to sit in the back of my mind, seem to have nestled in and made their home. No amount of mental power will make them budge.

I’m trying to take things one step at a time. To appreciate the glimpses of light in every day, but I can’t help but dwell on the negatives. My brain seems to wander in search of the tiniest anxieties I’ve been running around to avoid. Last week, I couldn’t breathe. I thought my asthma had finally heard about LA smog. But it was just anxiety. I guess my subconscious knows, because the nightmares haven’t stopped in weeks. Swarming me every night and with every nap. Ironic since sleeping is how I used to avoid the world.

I’ll be patient.

I’ve gotten to the point where the me I’m trying to hide doesn’t slip out as often. I walk around with smiles, suspiciously positive retorts to the day old “how are you?” Things are seemingly back to normal. And I haven’t cut in a month. But every second of every day still feels like a war. To not get sucked in again, and to forgive myself when I do.

Sundays though. Sundays I aim for survival. Sundays I don’t make plans because I don’t know if I can live up to them, but when the day comes, the loneliness settles in. I walk around with a tightness in my chest, an urge to throw everything up. Sundays I despise, but secretly wish would continue forever.

Today, I’m remembering to breathe, be patient, and practice a little bit of metta.

Recovery

Recovery feels like finally realizing that the sun is behind the clouds and that its been there all along. But it’s not the same thing as seeing the sun.

Recovery is acknowledging that your life is worth it and fighting like hell every second to remember that. Refusing the vicious thoughts and temptations you used to rely on. Resisting the ease of slipping into a dark hole and lying there because it’s easier not to get up.

Recovery is struggling to remember that there is good in every moment even if you can’t see it right now. It’s being grateful for the ten minutes of every day that you have a smile on your face and it’s real.

But that sinking feeling in your chest is still there. Once in awhile it gets a little bit lighter, but you know that it’s there. You have to remember that those dark habits you relied on have consequences. So now before you reach for your razor, you stop, you breathe, count to ten, think of alternatives. You remember that people care. You remember that you should care.

Recovery is knowing that the sun is there, but fighting every second just to catch a glimpse. And every time you lose sight of it, you’re filled with terror.

Forgive yourself. Be kind. Be patient. Someday, every day will be filled with sun.

Thoughts…

I haven’t written in awhile. I’ve had a lot of thoughts, but I haven’t written. So I guess this is my stream of consciousness.

A year ago, I was not in a good place. I was filled with anxiety, self-hatred, guilt, restlessness, negativity. My memories are vivid because you remember things most clearly when they are very good or very bad and this was the latter. And things only went downhill from this time. 2014 was not my year.

I stumbled onto this internship by accident. It happened in a time when things had started to turn, but I didn’t believe in anything, I didn’t trust. Not in myself and not in that mysterious force that I somehow always believed made things happen for a reason.

Things happen for a reason. This internship was a blessing that I never knew I needed. Being here. I didn’t think I would like it. I really didn’t think I would like it. My experience isn’t even half over, but I have learned more in the past four weeks than I probably have over the past year. About myself. I’ve gained a sense of confidence and self-respect that I never had before. And I’ve realized what has held me back.

There are still things that I need to work on… But I am learning to be patient with myself. If I can’t hold back the critical thoughts, I can at least acknowledge that they are critical thoughts and work on a way to make them less internally harmful. My thoughts aren’t gathered. They will be. I feel good. It’s a new kind of good. The kind that isn’t artificial. I’m not afraid that its going to leave, but I know where it comes from and I know that it comes from myself.

But I know its important to watch out, because I know that in a way, this happiness is logic derived. And sometimes, when other things take over, its hard to be logical.

My thoughts are clumsy and disorganized right now. Its good. Managing uncertainty is one of my focuses right now. Doing things that have no planning, no purpose, no structure. Just thoughts – unedited.