Skip to main content

Relapse

     It is not your fault. 

I know you probably don't believe me, but I wanted you to know that. I have fought a war of denigration for years to make peace with mind, soul, and body in this pursuit of acceptance- and I have watched far too silently as others struggle drowning beneath the crash of their own self deafening waves that have overtaken them... 

    We look away because it hurts to watch. It's uncomfortable.  This is what infuriates me, and saddens me. The lack of ignorance, but also the refusal and closed mindedness to learning. We do not choose our storms- our adversities- our oceans, and the waves that transcend us. Each of of us would give just about anything for the taste of freedom amidst the struggle. Yet, the issue is we do not know how. How to free ourselves. How to stop flailing, and ride our waves of terror, and swim- or trust the lifeguards that come to help us because we have been hurt so many times that we have trained our steel laden minds to be strong. To not let anyone in for fear of being yet again disposed of- or used. 

     We give up trying to be helped because we feel we are disposable, unlovable, and vile burdens. But we are not. I am not. You are not. Your setbacks are not your demise. You are beauty beyond words. Relapse is but a bump in the road. It is in these moments where we must stand and take the very things we are being told, and then defy. 

Defy because we are so good at that. 

Defy because it is our hope to cling to. 

Defy because you are lovable. Capable. And brave. 

You deserve life. You are beauty

I love you.  You own the wave. Ride on. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Learning to Live

     I had to go grocery shopping. I came home Sunday night knowing there would be no food in the house for me to eat.  *Disclaimer: I had asked mom to hold off on the shopping- and shout out to her for going with me to learn about my meal planning*      This task, so simple to most, which I've always enjoyed doing had become a cruel game to this heavy loaded mind. A task such as entering a store for three items, left me dissecting labels in the store for hours, often leaving with a different cart than intended, for I wanted the "best" option for my body, all the while I was slowly killing myself. The aisles seemed to rise over me, and close in, while the food choices seemed endless yet so little to choose from. It was the equivalent to feeling like a lab rat in an experiment, or one of those shelter animals that everyone stares at, but feels sorry for. I began hating grocery shopping for it felt as though every person was judging my cart...
Post a Comment
Read more

No Fat Girls

    Pink Martini was playing in the car when I read "no fat girls." This bumper sticker plastered to the back of this old, worn nissan driven by a man who had been eyeing me as I tread through the parking lot certainly made me want a martini, but I sat behind this man for a solid two minutes at a stoplight of what seemed to last eons, feeling the repulsed state of hatred and anger within myself further manifest.      This is not the first time I have seen this or things such as this either. Unfortunately, it will probably not be the last either. I realize America is a free country, of free speech, and before I go running my mouth- I know just as I have the right to express my outrage, he has the right to express his opinions of sexualized, false manhood, and egocentrical boyhood vain, and shallow desires in the land of unattainable appearances in the complex of what I would furthermore simply describe as- "asshole."       Ok......
Post a Comment
Read more

Followed in the Night (and turning it around)

     I've learned that the world is full beauty. But from beauty also comes a realm of darkness.       As I arrived home the other evening following a lengthy day including voice lessons, treatment, church choir, and a rehearsal for singing in church on Sunday it was growing late, but I have certainly come home much later before. The rain beat down on the road, and the streetlights dimly lit a path for passerby's. I always keep the car doors locked- not even out of fear, but out of safety and common sense. As I pulled into my spot, I responded to a friend who texted me asking a simple question, and noticed an email from a professor. Midway through reading this I realized that the car that had driven up the street and pulled up just behind me, but partially beside me had been a car parked out in the street with their headlights on for about three minutes by this point. My instincts heightened, and I became uneasy. I know I made a mistake now, but...
Post a Comment
Read more