I always like to pretend everything is fine.

During the most strenuous parts of yoga, I always carry a calm, relaxed smile on my face… At least, I used to.

Now I struggle to remember to smile. My thoughts are messy blurs of dreams that I often forget and remember… Only to forget again.

I struggle. I struggle every single day but Sundays are always my worst. Every day I trip but Sundays I always fall and tell myself next week will be different. Next week never is.

I’m fine.

But you knew I was falling long before I did, when the numbers started slipping and the drinks started disappearing and you flew away the moment you saw the spark leave my eyes, the empty smile on my face.

Now I’m afraid. Strangers worry about me but I don’t have the courage to get up, go out.

I stay inside and the only thoughts that stay long enough for me to grasp them send me spiraling downward.

I’m fine.

February

Hospital beds with seizure pads and endless tears, crying because I’m weak, weak, weak and everyone keeps telling me to take the magic pill, just take it and everything will be wonderful, beautiful, perfect and my tears keep flowing and I keep shaking my head, no, no, no and no one’s listening.

Falling in love with strangers (pt. 3).

Last night:
Tonight? Yes.
Flying, not floating. It’s obvious from the way I spend just a moment deciding what to wear and I don’t change or fixate on anything for longer than a second or two. Ready? Yes, I’m ready. I’ve been preparing for days. I never thought I’d fly again and it’s been years but tonight - I don’t question it, I don’t think of it, I let it all unfold.

From the moment you asked and you asked and you asked, I knew. Something different, something special and for the first time in my life, my opinion matters. This is it, this is all, everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m no longer afraid to speak.

You’re easy to talk to. I smile and listen but you listen, too and everything seems so beautiful, even in the darkness, even when the stars don’t shine.

I’ve been waiting a long time to do that. I smile and smile and smile and for the first time, it was my choice, too. Mutual and no pressure and I could have easily slipped away but for the first time, it was what we both wanted, not what I wanted because you wanted and not what you wanted because I wanted.

Your voice is soft and your moves are slow and you’ve captured me and I’m enamored. I think I’ve found what I’ve been wanting and every day I choose to be a little less sick and a little more able to love.

Every word spoken is honest and open and I’ve never been part of something so beautiful before.

Yesterday I enjoyed an avocado for the first time in over half a year.

Your hand reached down to mine and I grabbed yours, desperate to hold onto something, anything that would save me from falling through, falling down.

I let go while you were still grasping, slapped your hand away so I could fall without dragging you down with me. Shocked, hurt, saddened: we both were. You didn’t let go, I forced you to.

Now I’ve thrown myself back into this whirlwind, spiraling around.

I miss the comfort, the security. I miss clinging to something, anything and acting as if it were the only thing that mattered. I miss my addictions.

I understand.

If only you could catch a glimpse of my world, see the thoughts stirring in my mind. I use and abuse and use more and abuse more and switch substances but nothing ever changes. I find hope with each rising sun, each morning is a new day and I won’t, no, not today, not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again but I’m weary of these thoughts that come and go, the flowing of the ocean waves that keep crashing down on my shores, whispering their secrets to me and next I’m being dragged under, dragged out to sea. By everyone who sees, yes, I chose to dip my toes in the water, run straight for the biggest wave, fully clothed just to feel the water drag me down.

You don’t understand.

I never had the choice.

It’s so fucking weird to think that a year ago, my diet consisted mostly of fats, tofu and fruits/vegetables… “mostly” meaning at least half of my diet came from fats: olive oil, avocados, hemp seeds, almonds, pecans, walnuts… It may seem ridiculous but remembering that I used to eat large amounts of fat makes me feel so much less anxious about re-including it into my current diet.

I’ve found a treatment program that will let me keep my morals.
It’s time to recover.

Forgiveness.
It’s time to forgive.
I keep thinking I have, keep thinking I’ve let things go, let the past go, let you go, keep thinking that while you sleep, you sleep soundly and I wish you nothing but the deepest of sleep, the sweetest of dreams.
It’s a lie; it’s all a lie, a horrible lie and I would do anything to make it the truth, see the light, come to peace.
All I can whisper,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
As if I could take it all back, take everything back, as if you could take it all back, take everything back, as if we could take it all back, take everything back.
I want to, I want to so badly my body aches and I reject everything that tries to come in contact with me, for fear of the worst.
In some way, in some twisted way, in some sick way, I loved you.
In some way, in some twisted way, in some sick way, disaster ensued.
I tried to run, I tried to hide, I tried to pretend it never happened, it didn’t exist.
Foolishly looking through fun house mirrors, enjoying everything that twisted and turned and didn’t make sense to anyone but me, for only my eyes could see the lack of reality, the lack of everything.
If you tell yourself anything enough times, eventually you’ll begin to believe it.
I did, oh how I did.
I fell for every word I said, every lie that swept past my lips, every whisper in my mind that told me anything, that told me everything.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
I’m still learning, I’m still processing, I’m still slowly clinging to the bits of you I still have while throwing away the pieces of you that I never did and I never did.