today of all days
1 year gone. I want to say that I feel that I've achieved something in struggling through it, but aside from the memories stirring it feels oddly flat. If anything, flashing back to my cold consideration as I stared at the pill bottles just a few months ago or recalling the sharp scratch of the screwdriver in the autumn of this year of hellish struggle, I feel weighted by my own weakness. And still, despite the scars, despite the flashbacks, despite everything...it still seems spun oneiric and not real at all...not real at all.
Strangely, I'm mosjavascript:void(0);tly ok right now. I didn't think I would be. I was in rare energetic form at Critical Massive, more the me that I was before. I take that as a good sign, though I still have what seems a precognitive image of me curled and leaking tears somewhere as more chunks of reality pound home.
Healing comes on its own terms sometimes, and for what alleviation it has granted me thus far I am truly thankful. Even as I grow and mature, I hope that each year brings me closer to reclaiming myself.
Strangely, I'm mosjavascript:void(0);tly ok right now. I didn't think I would be. I was in rare energetic form at Critical Massive, more the me that I was before. I take that as a good sign, though I still have what seems a precognitive image of me curled and leaking tears somewhere as more chunks of reality pound home.
Healing comes on its own terms sometimes, and for what alleviation it has granted me thus far I am truly thankful. Even as I grow and mature, I hope that each year brings me closer to reclaiming myself.