Purple curtains
Dear Katie,
So, here you are again. It's late. You are home in Ohio. Pirate is lying next to you, peaceful...sleeping. Next to you you have 4 different bottles of medication and various glasses half full of water, yes, half full. Your fan is blowing your brand new light purple opaque curtains ever so slightly. Your walls, previously blue and green, are now bland and white. You sort of feel like you are in a white padded room...but then, there are these joyous purple curtains swaying back and forth, almost reminding you. Your tv stares at you, blankly with nothing on the screen but your reflection. It's quiet. Everyone is asleep. But you...you are lying awake. But why?
A lot is on your mind. Maybe too much. So many practical things to worry about, but then...so many things are on your mind that you shouldn't worry about, but you are.
You're wondering where you are going to get the money to pay for your OCD tendencies. And money to pay back those who are generous enough to offer you money in the first place. You are wondering if you are ever actually going to feel better, or if in fact the medicine that lies ever so closely to you is making you worse, and is an illusion to what you are supposed to feel like. You are wondering when you started feeling so disconnected from yourself. When you started to worry about dying rather than living. When you started to concern yourself about every sensation you feel as something serious...something that could kill you. You are wondering if it is worth being addicted to klonopin to just feel the relief. Can you, should you trust your doctor? You want to be able to. You know the wound runs deeper than it appears. But how can you express that in 50 minutes? You're wondering when someone will love you again. That love is perhaps something in your past...because you are too unstable to be able to handle anything but yourself. You are wondering why you feel so tired during the day but can't sleep at night. You're wondering when it's going to get better. And how it got to this point. Will it ever get better? Or is it even supposed to be this bad. Or maybe it's not so bad, it's just your perspective. Maybe to someone else, what you are going through is really, well, generic.
You're thinking if you don't reveal your whole self, you might suffocate.
You're thinking no one will love you, because no one loves anyone that is so burried beneath so much regret and anxiety.
You're thinking you have to start somewhere. And if it is as bad as it seems, sooner or later, it will get better. Because you just wrote a 12 page essay. You wrote a 12 page essay on how the good will always prevail over the evil; no matter how hopeless things may appear, nothing is ever hopeless. If you can write a 12 page paper about why the good will always prevail, why can't you convince yourself that you are not hopeless. It has to get better. Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. Or a month or a year from now.
You are thinking you are going through a stage. And that it will pass. But you are terrified that it won't.
You are thinking that despite the wonderful friends you have, you still feel alone. You still feel abandoned. Because you think of those friends who left you.
You strive for happiness but cannot find it in the midst of your anxiety. It is suffocating.
So your blank white walls scream at you. You have sort of a flower patterned ceiling. And your blue bag across from you is a mouth full of clothes sneering at you...emptiness. You miss a lot of people, and you hate feeling disconnected from yourself. You want a lot. Maybe too much. Maybe you should take one thing at a time. And not worry about the rest. Because see, you have these nice purple sheer curtains swaying, and it's kind of a nice change, despite your blank boring walls. But, despite the nice purple curtains, changing your curtains won't change your situation. It just changes the appearance of your situation. Energy never dies, it just transforms. You like to transform your problems. Or cover them up. With light purple swaying curtains.
So, here you are again. It's late. You are home in Ohio. Pirate is lying next to you, peaceful...sleeping. Next to you you have 4 different bottles of medication and various glasses half full of water, yes, half full. Your fan is blowing your brand new light purple opaque curtains ever so slightly. Your walls, previously blue and green, are now bland and white. You sort of feel like you are in a white padded room...but then, there are these joyous purple curtains swaying back and forth, almost reminding you. Your tv stares at you, blankly with nothing on the screen but your reflection. It's quiet. Everyone is asleep. But you...you are lying awake. But why?
A lot is on your mind. Maybe too much. So many practical things to worry about, but then...so many things are on your mind that you shouldn't worry about, but you are.
You're wondering where you are going to get the money to pay for your OCD tendencies. And money to pay back those who are generous enough to offer you money in the first place. You are wondering if you are ever actually going to feel better, or if in fact the medicine that lies ever so closely to you is making you worse, and is an illusion to what you are supposed to feel like. You are wondering when you started feeling so disconnected from yourself. When you started to worry about dying rather than living. When you started to concern yourself about every sensation you feel as something serious...something that could kill you. You are wondering if it is worth being addicted to klonopin to just feel the relief. Can you, should you trust your doctor? You want to be able to. You know the wound runs deeper than it appears. But how can you express that in 50 minutes? You're wondering when someone will love you again. That love is perhaps something in your past...because you are too unstable to be able to handle anything but yourself. You are wondering why you feel so tired during the day but can't sleep at night. You're wondering when it's going to get better. And how it got to this point. Will it ever get better? Or is it even supposed to be this bad. Or maybe it's not so bad, it's just your perspective. Maybe to someone else, what you are going through is really, well, generic.
You're thinking if you don't reveal your whole self, you might suffocate.
You're thinking no one will love you, because no one loves anyone that is so burried beneath so much regret and anxiety.
You're thinking you have to start somewhere. And if it is as bad as it seems, sooner or later, it will get better. Because you just wrote a 12 page essay. You wrote a 12 page essay on how the good will always prevail over the evil; no matter how hopeless things may appear, nothing is ever hopeless. If you can write a 12 page paper about why the good will always prevail, why can't you convince yourself that you are not hopeless. It has to get better. Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. Or a month or a year from now.
You are thinking you are going through a stage. And that it will pass. But you are terrified that it won't.
You are thinking that despite the wonderful friends you have, you still feel alone. You still feel abandoned. Because you think of those friends who left you.
You strive for happiness but cannot find it in the midst of your anxiety. It is suffocating.
So your blank white walls scream at you. You have sort of a flower patterned ceiling. And your blue bag across from you is a mouth full of clothes sneering at you...emptiness. You miss a lot of people, and you hate feeling disconnected from yourself. You want a lot. Maybe too much. Maybe you should take one thing at a time. And not worry about the rest. Because see, you have these nice purple sheer curtains swaying, and it's kind of a nice change, despite your blank boring walls. But, despite the nice purple curtains, changing your curtains won't change your situation. It just changes the appearance of your situation. Energy never dies, it just transforms. You like to transform your problems. Or cover them up. With light purple swaying curtains.