I keep putting it off. There’s always a reason why it’s not convenient, too problematic to really fulfil its intended goal.
University, travelling, too close to this date or that event it’s ironic the amount of rationality that goes into irrational thinking.
The prolonging of this urge is difficult, uncomfortable, as if I’m a volcano dying to erupt but never actually managing to do so.
The anticipation builds everyday and I wonder if it will make me feel better to try going through with it. Is it that ideation that needs confrontation to truly disappear. Then the myth can be debunked, that is, trying to escape life will equate to happiness Well, that is, if you are unsuccessful.
Have you ever felt as if your life is spent waiting, prioritizing, rationalizing when it’s convenient to feel pain, when it’s acceptable to let go?
Now it seems the roles have reversed. Mental health is the main priority, has become my boss and I can no longer soothe its temper, suppress it’s desires until they are appropriately displayed.
To be honest, I’m not sure if I want to anymore, why not let it express itself? Cry out in pain, be openly mad, crazy, maybe then I can accept it, and It will accept me, reward me for being honest and recover accordingly.
We can acknowledge one another, understand each others needs, mine to function normally and it’s to be taken care of, and maybe then we can stop living in pretence because “it’s not okay is it Eliza”?
“You’re not okay and these are not healthy emotions felt by healthy individuals” my mind says to me. “So accept yourself and allow yourself to be sick, let family and friends and strangers see you sick, suffering, raw and vulnerable in it’s true form, not the one you cover up and make look pretty”.
How can you recover when you mascaraed as perfectly well? Go through it, the motions, and maybe you’l be a success story one day, survived the journey from Hell and back.