(no subject)
In one week I will be twenty, which is very young.
The past couple years have been the most calm, the most relaxed, and could be seen as filler years, but truly they leveled me off and let me know I was going to be okay, and I am okay which is nice. Every day I'm overwhelmed by love, a love for kelvin, and our little pets, and the important people in my life, including myself. I don't fill myself with hate.
I'm getting better at looking at myself in the mirror and not critiquing, and some days I even see a glimpse of something I like which is amazing and scary all at once. I've learned to love my mind, rather than hate it, which has calmed my mind and created less to hate in the first place.
I've lived through daily doctor visits which changed to weekly, and now I'm at a point where I haven't been to a doctor in years. I find it very odd that years have actually passed. I lived through the three-time-a-week chiropractors, and now I have a man to fall asleep next to who will rub my back when it aches, which is less than before, though still most of the time. I lived through the pills that were prescribed and in the past month I threw out the long ago hidden stashes, and all I have left is a small container which I keep only for the memories. I take painkillers to help with physical pain only, and they work that way. I lived through therapists and psychiatrists and group therapy and opinions and judgments and work sheets and personality tests and mood disorder quizzes.
I eat, once, sometimes twice or three times daily. Fat sits on my body, rests on my bones, and it's more or less okay.
No longer do I fool around with people I don't know, or have friends I don't respect. I have not drank alcohol in a long time; I can't remember when I last did. I haven't smoked pot in possibly longer. I very rarely smoke cigarettes and I can sometimes even smell them now without their scent being appealing. I don't cut myself, or punch my bruises. I don't cut my hair because I'm having a bad day. I don't write, nor do I try to remember.
I'm no longer obsessed with music, though I enjoy it. I don't use self talk of any form. Rarely do I deal with illusions. Rarely do I cry.
I tried to fix everything with my parents in a short amount of time. They still make me angry; I cannot forgive. I try to remind myself of the good things and remember to try to make it work. I still don't let them know me, even though I had planned on it. I'm still closed off to most people. I am still hurt.
I am like a reflection in a fun house mirror to my former self, I am still the same person, but I have changed and the changes are evident if you look. I no longer try to pinpoint who I am.
Everyday I make the choice to stay on top. I will make it.
Next week I will be twenty.
The past couple years have been the most calm, the most relaxed, and could be seen as filler years, but truly they leveled me off and let me know I was going to be okay, and I am okay which is nice. Every day I'm overwhelmed by love, a love for kelvin, and our little pets, and the important people in my life, including myself. I don't fill myself with hate.
I'm getting better at looking at myself in the mirror and not critiquing, and some days I even see a glimpse of something I like which is amazing and scary all at once. I've learned to love my mind, rather than hate it, which has calmed my mind and created less to hate in the first place.
I've lived through daily doctor visits which changed to weekly, and now I'm at a point where I haven't been to a doctor in years. I find it very odd that years have actually passed. I lived through the three-time-a-week chiropractors, and now I have a man to fall asleep next to who will rub my back when it aches, which is less than before, though still most of the time. I lived through the pills that were prescribed and in the past month I threw out the long ago hidden stashes, and all I have left is a small container which I keep only for the memories. I take painkillers to help with physical pain only, and they work that way. I lived through therapists and psychiatrists and group therapy and opinions and judgments and work sheets and personality tests and mood disorder quizzes.
I eat, once, sometimes twice or three times daily. Fat sits on my body, rests on my bones, and it's more or less okay.
No longer do I fool around with people I don't know, or have friends I don't respect. I have not drank alcohol in a long time; I can't remember when I last did. I haven't smoked pot in possibly longer. I very rarely smoke cigarettes and I can sometimes even smell them now without their scent being appealing. I don't cut myself, or punch my bruises. I don't cut my hair because I'm having a bad day. I don't write, nor do I try to remember.
I'm no longer obsessed with music, though I enjoy it. I don't use self talk of any form. Rarely do I deal with illusions. Rarely do I cry.
I tried to fix everything with my parents in a short amount of time. They still make me angry; I cannot forgive. I try to remind myself of the good things and remember to try to make it work. I still don't let them know me, even though I had planned on it. I'm still closed off to most people. I am still hurt.
I am like a reflection in a fun house mirror to my former self, I am still the same person, but I have changed and the changes are evident if you look. I no longer try to pinpoint who I am.
Everyday I make the choice to stay on top. I will make it.
Next week I will be twenty.