I’ve had time to write but chose not too. Feels that when I write about my life it makes me overthink even more than I already do, and sets me back a couple days mentally. Today, I choose to write.
Maybe because I’m bored, maybe because I’m ready.. I don’t know. What I do know is that I was in a slump. A pretty big one actually. With my fractured finger, to the bills that came with it.. to not being able to lift how I want too.. To being drained mentally.. It seemed like I would never come out of it. I cried most nights. I felt sorry for myself most days. None of which was proactive.
Just like binging, it was a vicious cycle. Speaking of which, I went a whole week eating whatever I wanted. Puked some of it up. You would think I was resorting back to old ways.. When really, I was just making room for more food. Fucked up, no? Yes. Quite so actually. I’m not even embarrassed anymore. I was struggling. I was hating myself and punishing myself all at the same time.
But I’m here. Still afloat. Feeling better, and slowly climbing out of this hole I built for myself. Can’t say I did it alone. I have had help. The same help I tried dismissing every time it was offered. Call it ego call it whatever you want but I thought I could do this myself.
I thought wrong.
It’s not such a bad thing to receive help, and I’m slowly understanding that. This world is way too complicated to roam around lonely and lost.
I finally bit the bullet and applied for classes, beginning in August. Something, that even though hasn’t started, I feel is a huge step forward. Not just for the real worlds sake, but for my own well being. I fight the feeling of worthlessness all the time. I have a lot to offer and feel I stay stuck to feel sorry for myself.
It ends here.my life isn’t perfect, I e known that from years of struggling, but sitting on the pity pot sure gets uncomfortable.