growing and falling apart

I have been riddled with anxiety these days. I'm so discouraged, full of self-doubt, and lost in melancholy thoughts.

Last night I had a pretty intense panic attack. I cried for an hour, one of those messy awful cries where I go through an entire box of tissue, and sob so loud I scare myself. Ronald did his best to comfort me, but sometimes there is nothing to do but let it out. I'm still not feeling good but it's a new day so I'm going to keep on.

I have so much trouble getting forward momentum. As soon as I start moving ahead something gets in the way and I get smacked back down. It's really frustrating, especially since this has been happening for most of my life. I'm hoping to be able to break the cycle at some point and get to a place I want to be.

This picture is of my purple shamrock plant. I've had it for over a year and it reminds me of myself a bit. During the day the plant's leaves are wide open in the sun, but at night the leaves close and go limp, it seriously looks like the plant is dying. Then the next morning, it is open again soaking up the sun.

I feel like that is how life is for me. Most nights I melt-down in some way. But then the next day I'm ready to fight again. It's not easy to do that every day, and many days I don't feel like fighting, but I do. Because I have to. Because I can't give up. It's so hard, but I'm working at it. I'm pesky and stubborn like that.

I always had romantic ideas of what being a fighter meant. That somehow a fighter always new what they were fighting for, always believed it was worth it, and was tough and determined at every turn. That they had personality, a strong voice, and knew exactly what they wanted. Then I realized I am a fighter, and all those romantic ideas went out the window. But that's ok. I'm a fighter regardless.


1 comment:

I adore your notes! Please don't be shy! :)