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“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

--T.S. Eliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

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The Awesome Power of Procrastination

*Trigger Warning: self-harm The power of procrastination is so awesome that even though I have been without Internet access for several hours and I have things that I think I want to do, I have spent that time lying on top of my bed thinking about how I would do all the things I want to do if I were to do them. Very productive. I think that the ideas I have are worth so much more in my head, I can fetishize every negative feeling and pretend that it makes me special or interesting in some way. But when the thoughts become words that I type out and read back, I realise how banal everything about me is. That's probably the real reason writing blog posts and writing in my journal gets a little harder every time. Here is a quick list of the things I should be doing right now: On Tuesday I had a very intense dream that was terrifying enough to make me feel slightly separate from my body all week. Even now, everything feels a little unreal and abnormal; I haven't stopped ...
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The Crappy Mantra

In this moment, I have nothing. The friend I was counting on is not the friend I can count on. I am out of food and money. Plus, I hate my body and I still don't quite have the energy to do the things I want to do yet. But this morning I woke up and decided to solve one of my biggest problems all by myself. And I mostly succeeded. There are still a few hurdles ahead and then there are all my other problems but, today is the day that I decided to save myself and I sort of succeeded. It feels a lot better than the day I decided to kill myself and nearly succeeded, honestly.

When I started taking the pills and going to therapy, I thought that just doing those things would make me feel better. But that doesn't seem to be the sort of thing that works for me. Helping some stranger with a problem neither of us had any hope of actually solving made me feel better than I ever did when I was taking the antidepressants. For the first time ever, the part of me that wants to live is so much stronger than the part of me that wants to die. Maybe my problem isn't depression, maybe it's that I need to grow up.

There are probably a list of things involving diet and exercise that I need to start doing, but I guess this where the "one day at a time" thing comes in. God, I hate mantras...

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