starting over

The past few years have been nothing short of tumultuous. A tenacious kind of tumultuous. There were pockets of moments when I drew short breaths before the waves started to ceaselessly crash down upon me again. It was exhausting.

I took many steps forward only to find myself down meandering paths in anything but the right direction. With each misstep, the faith I had in myself dwindled until I could trust myself no more.

The perils of doubt - everything is an option but nothing seems like a good plan.

So there I was stuck in limbo, trapped in a mental prison. It sounds figurative but it felt literal as my disorders fervently escalated to dizzying heights. Precarious coping mechanisms I had long ditched became the only things to keep me afloat.

I’m not sure when the tides turned, but it did.

Slowly and surely, the tangled knots unravelled. The scars remain but I make an effort to paint over them every day, even if just a little.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, I started to feel happiness again.

Not the pleasures I sought to spar with my pain, nor the conscious appreciation I practised but genuine bubbles of joy. Little pops of serotonin that come out of nowhere and flood my mind in the most nondescript of moments.

I was barely ten when I last had moments like these and I’ve spent the entirety of the rest of my years chasing a feeling I no longer even remembered.

Nothing is right and yet, everything is perfect. Just being able to embrace the present as it is without fuss over the past or future has been a true gift.

For all that I’ve lost just to gain what I have now, it was all worth it.

Here’s to starting over again. x