Brigit's Flame Entry - Febuary Week - It's Okay
Brigit's Flame Entry - 271 words
Warnings - mentions of throwing up, anxiety, depressing crap, and I should probably see my therapist.
It's Okay
It’s not okay.
It’s not okay that you throw up from anxiety when you wake. Not okay that you spend more time avoiding responsibility than you do owning up to it. Not okay that your grades are slipping, that you haven’t worked on your research project, that you haven’t talked to your friends in weeks.
It’s not okay that you’re so unhappy you don’t know what it’s like to be unhappy anymore, because there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s not okay that everybody else is allowed to crumble but you aren’t-the only time you can admit that maybe you can’t handle things is when you’re alone, with the bathroom door locked and the ventilation on high and the shower running so nobody can hear you gag, and gag, and gag-
It’s not okay that you can’t even just throw up, that you say that you’re throwing up every morning but that just means that you stand over a toilet and brace yourself on the seat and wish you could. But you can’t, and that’s not okay, because it just means that the nausea digs its way into your throat and your stomach lurches every five seconds as you run from home to school, from meeting to class, from class to meeting, from meeting to another meeting. It just means that it never ends, the way tides never stop flowing up and down and back and forth.
So smile. Smile until your eyes clench shut from lips curving too high, so you don’t have to face anybody. Smile and say:
“It’s okay.”
Warnings - mentions of throwing up, anxiety, depressing crap, and I should probably see my therapist.
It's Okay
It’s not okay.
It’s not okay that you throw up from anxiety when you wake. Not okay that you spend more time avoiding responsibility than you do owning up to it. Not okay that your grades are slipping, that you haven’t worked on your research project, that you haven’t talked to your friends in weeks.
It’s not okay that you’re so unhappy you don’t know what it’s like to be unhappy anymore, because there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s not okay that everybody else is allowed to crumble but you aren’t-the only time you can admit that maybe you can’t handle things is when you’re alone, with the bathroom door locked and the ventilation on high and the shower running so nobody can hear you gag, and gag, and gag-
It’s not okay that you can’t even just throw up, that you say that you’re throwing up every morning but that just means that you stand over a toilet and brace yourself on the seat and wish you could. But you can’t, and that’s not okay, because it just means that the nausea digs its way into your throat and your stomach lurches every five seconds as you run from home to school, from meeting to class, from class to meeting, from meeting to another meeting. It just means that it never ends, the way tides never stop flowing up and down and back and forth.
So smile. Smile until your eyes clench shut from lips curving too high, so you don’t have to face anybody. Smile and say:
“It’s okay.”