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Entry tags:
Spring
This feels like the first time I've been able to breathe in years; I don't think I've gotten a rush of dopamine like this...ever. I can finally ditch every pretense in my life and be myself-- I'm going to pursue a career in writing full time, with complete, absolute approval from my family. This means everything to me. I was killing myself every day; not eating, not drinking water, cutting, drinking, being high. Those were the only sources I had for release, but essentially being told today that I can just LIVE from the people that matter most is on a different level. I can't believe this is a real feeling, something that people have had access to their entire lives. And it's not even just living-- it's the fact that they're confident in my abilities and success even if it's an unpredictable path, that they're encouraging me and pushing me forward. I wouldn't have lasted the rest of the year if I kept going the way I was-- my suicidal thoughts were starting to manifest into a physical reality and tempt me more and more every minute like they never had in the past.
I don't know what this means for my immediate future, but I feel like I'm holding this tiny light captive between my palms; I can't let it escape and I'm worried it'll float away if there's the slightest gap between my fingers. But even if it does, it's okay for me to just exist-- so I guess it doesn't matter. Knowing that makes me want to hold onto it more until that worry goes away. I can think outside of myself again and my ideas are coming back to me. I see myself travelling the world, living in country for two months at a time while I write and work on my projects. All I've ever really need was to be around words, and now I have full absolute total complete fucking freedom to do that. Words in any form. I've even been into writing poetry and surprisingly rap lately. It's been twisting my brain and everything I thought was true about how to "write" around in interesting and fresh ways. It would even be nice to be an editor and work with other people's manuscripts. Just have to find a way to make connections and break into the industry now while I write whatever the fuck I want however many times I want to a day.
Even had the peace of mind to wear a T-shirt on my walk today despite the newer cuts and scars; it just doesn't matter anymore. Again, I can't believe people have just...felt like this. The sun felt nice on my skin and the spring wind was warm. The world actually looks beautiful?!?!?The coffee I drank had this mellow taste to it and I liked it; the almond croissant (probably more like a danish with its sheer size) was overflowing with custard and was basically the best thing ever even though I couldn't finish it. People say to be kind to your inner child but I think I've been going through this unintentional metamorphosis back into my teenage self. It wasn't good at first, with the relapse back into deep cutting and destructive tendencies but I've been able to make it into something positive. I have short hair again which I chopped off myself like I always used to, don't feel tied down to gender and don't even question it at this point, I just am who I am; I don't need to bind my chest or do any of that dumb shit anymore, don't feel overly concerned with how people perceive me. Don't have that strong hatred for them anymore. I'm just suddenly comfortable where I was once deeply uncomfortable. And best of all, I can do what she always wanted to do with her life; write for a living. If she saw me now she'd be happy in the same way I am. For now I'll spend my time reading a bunch more. I can't believe that it won't just be an escape anymore but something fucking productive.
Mentally and Physically I Am Here
I don't know what this means for my immediate future, but I feel like I'm holding this tiny light captive between my palms; I can't let it escape and I'm worried it'll float away if there's the slightest gap between my fingers. But even if it does, it's okay for me to just exist-- so I guess it doesn't matter. Knowing that makes me want to hold onto it more until that worry goes away. I can think outside of myself again and my ideas are coming back to me. I see myself travelling the world, living in country for two months at a time while I write and work on my projects. All I've ever really need was to be around words, and now I have full absolute total complete fucking freedom to do that. Words in any form. I've even been into writing poetry and surprisingly rap lately. It's been twisting my brain and everything I thought was true about how to "write" around in interesting and fresh ways. It would even be nice to be an editor and work with other people's manuscripts. Just have to find a way to make connections and break into the industry now while I write whatever the fuck I want however many times I want to a day.
Even had the peace of mind to wear a T-shirt on my walk today despite the newer cuts and scars; it just doesn't matter anymore. Again, I can't believe people have just...felt like this. The sun felt nice on my skin and the spring wind was warm. The world actually looks beautiful?!?!?The coffee I drank had this mellow taste to it and I liked it; the almond croissant (probably more like a danish with its sheer size) was overflowing with custard and was basically the best thing ever even though I couldn't finish it. People say to be kind to your inner child but I think I've been going through this unintentional metamorphosis back into my teenage self. It wasn't good at first, with the relapse back into deep cutting and destructive tendencies but I've been able to make it into something positive. I have short hair again which I chopped off myself like I always used to, don't feel tied down to gender and don't even question it at this point, I just am who I am; I don't need to bind my chest or do any of that dumb shit anymore, don't feel overly concerned with how people perceive me. Don't have that strong hatred for them anymore. I'm just suddenly comfortable where I was once deeply uncomfortable. And best of all, I can do what she always wanted to do with her life; write for a living. If she saw me now she'd be happy in the same way I am. For now I'll spend my time reading a bunch more. I can't believe that it won't just be an escape anymore but something fucking productive.
Mentally and Physically I Am Here