Forest-fire-witness - Elise - Tumblr Blog

"we're not out of the tunnel yet, i bet you though theres an end"

is a lyric to 'i will,' a song that captures the beautiful intersection of longing and comfort. mitski wrote it from the prospective of a lover caring for her, comforting her with the words she yearns to hear. this allows its calming prose to be contrasted by an underlying sense of unfufillment.

for many years, i recited this lyric in search of reasurement. it lent me solace and hope for a better future. but what differentiates that perfect future from the present? what was i hoping for?

i eventually came to the realization that i was wishing my life away by continuously waiting for the mundane to be transformed into a magical utopia. i desired to be rid of negative emotions entirely, and would only escape the tunnel by being unequivocally and continuously gratified.

so, i redefined my tunnel!!

i now characterize being out of the tunnel as staying afloat. i allow myself to live in the present and experience a vast array of emotions w/o shame. my only guideline is that i do not drown.

tldr; do not force your values to become fixed. nothing is permant, allow yourself to redefine your tunnels!!

i seek solace in articulation. verbalizing abstract thoughts is one of lifes greatest pleasures imo! diaries, this blog lol, essays, etc i love it all

if you have reason to write notes you have reason to stay !!

its oftentimes difficult to articulate my experiences when the words i use to define them are so vast. like how do i explain that the panic attacks i experience are completely different than that i often see represented by media and others' anecdotes?

this is not benifited by the seperate issue that my panic attacks are so severe i don't remember them. i can only recollect the sensation of coming back to myself. the paranoid delusions, all-encompassing immobilization, lightheadedness, sweat, irregular heartbeat, paresthesia, etc etc are not properly indicitive of my attacks.

i pathologize my identity, transform my experiences into a catalog of symptoms, so maybe you'll understand. i need help.

obsessed rn with the notion that a tree was planted the day i was born. i imagine a lofty redwood (already 65 ft!) imbued with ambitions of touching the sky. protected by lush canopy, it has been weathered by neither neither time nor circumstance. it is sturdy and, when it sways in the wind, it never anticipates plummeting onto the rocky terrain below. we are diametrically different, but we have grown together. idk i just find that so comforting!!

"I am not well; I could have built the Pyramids with the effort it takes me to cling on to life and reason."

Franz Kafka, Letters to Felize

tw

three years ago, i found a hershey's bar in my pantry. with shaky hands and a guilty conscience, i broke off a few pieces to eat. i immediately tried to rid myself of the iniquity by attempting to seperate myself from the enemy: calories. i failed to forcibly vomit, so i tried again. and again. and, with no success, again.

i was so irrevocably in love with the concept of beauty that i led myself to such a dark place that i was blind to the beauty already around me. i lived my days in shame and inhibition.

it took years to recover from this mindset. to realize that there is nothing (absolutely nothing!!) to gain from starving. in pursuit of my weight goals, i lost happiness, friends, and my will to live. ana convinces you that this is worthwile, that your obstinance will pay off when you reach a certain weight. it wont!! i promise you!!

mental illness is inherently irrational. it will convince you that it subscribes to logic; it will blind you from reason. its up to you to see past this veil. so, please, ask for help, whether from a parent, friend, medical professional, teacher, whatever!! just ask somebody.

today, i ate a chocolate bar. i did not read the nutrition label until i had finished the candy and begun to fidget with the wrapper. "200 cals" the bar boasted in bold, black letters. the same number as that i read three years ago, but without any of the previous connotation. it was just a number.

three years ago, i was captive to disordered eating. today, i am free, healthy, and genuinely happy.

recovery is beautiful. i promise you, you are worth it.

You are Spring.

depression is best articulated as loneliness imo. its cold and isolating, unrelentless in its ignorance of reality. in moments of clarity, i am able to feel the love my friends so readily give me. but most the time i am alone. i long for what i have.

looking back through my notes app rn and reading all the words/phrases i furiously scribbled into rememberance. their once inherent meaning is now incomprehensible, lost upon time, but maybe thats why they feel so potent to me.

i will never again understand why 'a candle burning on both ends' was so integral to me at one point or why articulating 'empty ideals' felt like finding a lost piece of my identity. i remember why i wrote '22' (on a particularly miserable tuesday, i was struck by how beautiful it is to depend on having a future. someday i will be 22 and so forth) but i will never again be capable of understanding why this affected me so deeply.

isnt impermanence so beautiful?

i used to expend so much energy fretting about my identity. it took too many late nights and early mornings to reach the revelation that being myself is inherent to the act of existing. just by being, im me!!

my identity as being a lesbian is always at strife with that of being a woman. not for my attraction to women, but rather my lack thereof in regards to men. why must womanhood be so fundamentally male-centric that it's antithesis is love?

the 'humanity is inherently evil' and 'the humanity is inherently pure' crowds both clamor for meaning when disposed to the 'humanity inherently has choices' mentality