I'm angry at myself...or maybe disappointed is a more appropriate term? I have too much compassion for the hurtful parts of myself to be angry - it still aches though.
I've been feeling really well these past few weeks; minimal suicidal ideation, gentle and refreshing exercise, good diet (as in food choices based on health not weight loss) and time with beautiful friends. And then out of the blue, exhaustion and overwhelm crashes in and destroys it all.
I resent having to contact friends and explain that I'll be back soon, that I'm going through some stuff and need time. I resent having to structure my days to allow rest breaks and time to let me thoughts settle. Having said that, anything less than this feels like a form of self harm and quickly results in paralysis, sadness and distress.
I'm so scared of relapse (there - I said it). Events from my past feel like a horror movie or distant nightmare - maybe that's dissociation or cognitive dissonance - but I don't care either way. I'm happy for those experiences to be part of a past self, like the first chapter of your favourite book you don't bother rereading because you just wanna get to the good stuff.
My focus is on being well, staying well and achieving my goals and future aspirations.Current projects include; documenting my February with Milko's Polaroid camera, entering the AAS creative writing competition for suicide attempt survivors and maybe do some minor retail therapy (strongly considering buying Jonathan Safran Foer book 'Eating Animals' and becoming more clued up on the ethics of dairy).
Current mantras: your existence does not require justification, surround yourself with reasons to be happy & content (blessings)