- i give up, a little bit. even as i fight my own mind to the death. but even so, i still can’t help painting myself a superhero, or at the very least an overenthusiastic protagonist.
- so why don’t you sing yourself a song as you drift off to sleep? get stacks of books from the library, and spend afternoons the way you used to: curled up with a book on a freshly made bed. and for the first time in my life, i’m not completely exhausted. just a little bit drained after a long day, i guess.
- and let yourself admit, that you don’t know. and you’re still so fucking confused. take a deep breath, and allow it to wash over you. do not try to hold it at a distance. it’s a shitty situation, and you’re allowed to be mad, but you can’t spend forever simmering in bitterness.
- remind yourself every morning in the mirror as you get dressed, that life is not black or white, and everything exists in balance. and you’re probably gonna spend the next ten years trying to gently etch those words in your brain, work out kinks and heal old scars. and it’s dirty, wretched work for no pay. the hours suck, and you’re not much good at it. but for some reason, you do it anyway.
- be angry. scream into the pillow, write furious emails to all the people who ever hurt you, don’t accept anything less than coupons and cheap flowers in lieu. wish you could take out a warranty on your own brain, and send it back to the factory for a full reset. but, like, not actually, that’d be horrifying, don’t do that.
- try and put down your phone, for a little while at least. you don’t have to think about the bad things, about your faults and mistakes, about the person you used to be in eighth grade, and how she will forever be immortalized in other people’s brains. you don’t have to defend yourself, at least not today.
- put on your softest sweater, and go on a walk in the woods. realize, as you pick a few flowers and put them in your pockets, that you don’t feel totally exhausted. and you hate your body just a little bit less than you did yesterday. and you’re shaky, and scared, and also kind of… okay.
- hold it like an stained glass ornament, cupped in your palms. stare at it in the mirror, and try not to hate it when your fingers shake. they’re trying their best to hold the world together. give them a fucking break.
So, I haven’t reread over them in ages and don’t plan to, because rereading old writing makes me cringe–but I wrote these poems that were like “how to xyz a feeling” (can’t remember the exact title, but they’re on the blog somewhere, please god don’t go back and read them, I’m sure they’re very embarrasing). So this was my little ode to that, since I remember they were in list form as well. I’ve been doing really good of late, weirdly–like, actually okay? Not perfect, I still have a lot going on, and I don’t know how long it’ll last, but right now I don’t feel like dying, so I’m gonna take that as an accomplishment.
Lots of love,