You Are Spring.

You are Spring.

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.

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.

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!!

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?