The room began to spin, and the very thoughts which I have been working so hard to eradicate seemed to be boiling over again the way a pot of water would when it has been left unwatched, and was over filled in the first place.
You could say this is a fair comparison, for when a storm seems to dissipate, the next set of waves begins to rise, and come racing onto shore as they attempt to grasp me within their clutch. I've learned one must make sure to take care, and batten down the hatches as to not allow the storm to overtake you yet again, no matter how hard it may try-yet water still seems to seep in.
The first few days at home have been busy and boring at the same time from appointments, to seeing friends, and trying to keep up with meal prep, etc. While it is the same routine, it is also a foreign experience as I readjust to daily life and accepting changes. Trying to keep the smile on my face, but the water still seeps in; I know now that masks are worthless. I've been asked multiple times if I feel better, am I "fixed," or perhaps am I "good"? I find these to be interesting questions, and am never quite sure how to answer them to other people let alone to myself... I'd like to say I am all fixed, and perfect, and I will have a perfect diet in my perfect little life like a perfect person, but sadly I am afraid that "perfect" doesn't exist, and trying to achieve that is a large portion of what got me here in the first place.
Being on my own has had challenges in and of itself, and has left me reeling, and second guessing as to whether I can handle things on my own or not. Coming home, I was placed on a meal plan, and I will be the first to say it has not been followed to perfection, even with careful planning because life happens. Somehow I managed to deduce the idea this meant I was a failure, and things were going to go horribly wrong, and well... shall we say things weren't pretty in the torrential hurricane of Samantha's mind. Finally I broke down and called my dietitian anxious of the judgement I would receive, who assured me that whatever I was doing was much better than before, and that the perfect day simply did not exist.
I've learned we cannot expect ourselves to be perfect, and reaching out and asking for help in life as a whole whenever it is needed is critical. Sometimes it can be the difference in continuing or throwing in the towel. I am quickly learning while my mind is innovative and insightful, it can also be my own worst enemy. Deceiving me of failures, setbacks, the distortion, and lying to me that maintaining the minimum is okay... I realize that I have a long way to go in overtaking the reigns of this monstrous aspect in a powerful mind.
I am learning continually to ask questions, and ask for help when I cannot handle things on my own. I am learning that second guesses are okay, so long as giving up is never an option. Someday my pain will be the story that propels me forward to help others, which is worth all the while, and above all- I've learned that as a big of a mess it may be at times... it's still a beautiful mess.
You could say this is a fair comparison, for when a storm seems to dissipate, the next set of waves begins to rise, and come racing onto shore as they attempt to grasp me within their clutch. I've learned one must make sure to take care, and batten down the hatches as to not allow the storm to overtake you yet again, no matter how hard it may try-yet water still seems to seep in.
The first few days at home have been busy and boring at the same time from appointments, to seeing friends, and trying to keep up with meal prep, etc. While it is the same routine, it is also a foreign experience as I readjust to daily life and accepting changes. Trying to keep the smile on my face, but the water still seeps in; I know now that masks are worthless. I've been asked multiple times if I feel better, am I "fixed," or perhaps am I "good"? I find these to be interesting questions, and am never quite sure how to answer them to other people let alone to myself... I'd like to say I am all fixed, and perfect, and I will have a perfect diet in my perfect little life like a perfect person, but sadly I am afraid that "perfect" doesn't exist, and trying to achieve that is a large portion of what got me here in the first place.
Being on my own has had challenges in and of itself, and has left me reeling, and second guessing as to whether I can handle things on my own or not. Coming home, I was placed on a meal plan, and I will be the first to say it has not been followed to perfection, even with careful planning because life happens. Somehow I managed to deduce the idea this meant I was a failure, and things were going to go horribly wrong, and well... shall we say things weren't pretty in the torrential hurricane of Samantha's mind. Finally I broke down and called my dietitian anxious of the judgement I would receive, who assured me that whatever I was doing was much better than before, and that the perfect day simply did not exist.
I've learned we cannot expect ourselves to be perfect, and reaching out and asking for help in life as a whole whenever it is needed is critical. Sometimes it can be the difference in continuing or throwing in the towel. I am quickly learning while my mind is innovative and insightful, it can also be my own worst enemy. Deceiving me of failures, setbacks, the distortion, and lying to me that maintaining the minimum is okay... I realize that I have a long way to go in overtaking the reigns of this monstrous aspect in a powerful mind.
I am learning continually to ask questions, and ask for help when I cannot handle things on my own. I am learning that second guesses are okay, so long as giving up is never an option. Someday my pain will be the story that propels me forward to help others, which is worth all the while, and above all- I've learned that as a big of a mess it may be at times... it's still a beautiful mess.
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