Let me get this straight – I did everything right yesterday, everything that I was supposed to do: had lunch and coffee with friends, confiding in both of them; blitzed myself at the gym to alleviate some of the mental pain by substituting it with physical pain; and said “yes” to things to which my fears would have had me say “no.”
And yet, my head wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t shake it yesterday. And yet, the blackness still crept into my blood vessels, around my back and neck, gripping my personality, strangling my happy, my calm today.
Perhaps this is to understand that there are some days that I need the wisdom to know I cannot change these things and the serenity to do so. It seems kind of fatalistic in that sense, that no matter what, there are still going to be days that I employ the strategies but obsess over portions, that I cannot sit down, that I think I am getting fat, that I will not be able to deafen the blackness.
I had an extra hour this morning between the shitty market and my parents’ for lunch (which I skipped breakfast to have, and entered starving as a result). Instead of being excited with the spare time, time to walk around or read or breathe or find my calm, it stressed me out. Walking around a bookstore looking through things that usually make me happy and finding only stress, anxiety, blackness in my veins? How the fuck is this normal? How the fuck is this right? I do things for others (buy them books) to distract me a little, but I couldn’t out-run it today. I couldn’t find my calm, my colour, my sanity.
But it is understandable that there is no magic equation, no A – B = C (alm). Accepting this is normal…
For now, I am going to drink, because it’s the only thing that seems to distract me from the blackness’ hold.