You really just never know. The last week and a half have been good. And by good I mean only brief periods of heart pounding anxiety. For the most part I’m breathing normally. I’m grateful. But there has been a trade off.
What I traded for peace was apathy. Or maybe I should say indifference. Either one fits.
It’s not that I don’t care. I do care. About me. And because I just care about me I’m doing all the things that are making my life easier to live.
Thing one: got out of relationships that aren’t contributing to my happiness.
Thing two: found my voice again. I’ve never been more honest about what I want than I have been this last week.
Thing three: getting creative again.
Things one and two were not easy. I knew that I was going to upset people. That is usually a trigger for me. I’m usually the one to make others smile and laugh. Even at my expense. This one took some courage. No regrets. My mental health is more important than hurt feelings. They’ll get over it.
Being creative again feels like freedom. I’ve had so many ideas trapped in my head. Words, pictures. I’m excited to see what I can do with them.
All this. For me. For my well being. I’m feeling love! Just not for everyone else.
I’ve read this is not uncommon. I know it’s part of the mental illness. Does it change? Will I ever feel close to anything again?
Bloody hell I wish this were easier. Easier to find the place between not suffering and heart wide open.