What crazy looks like. Our perceptions on mental health are so skewed. Today I spent a few hours in my closet. I find small spaces comforting. Is that insane? What is insane? I spent some of the evening having strange, energetic fits of thrashing around my bed. Not seizures, not panic attacks, but just frustrated thrashing. I am eating popcorn. I don’t know how I will manage a job. I want, I want to just spiral downwards, I just want to tip toe as close as possible to the edge, until the rocks are crumbling underneath my toes, and then prance back a few steps. I don’t want to fall, I just want to play with the edge. This is dangerous. Is it? It is not just the exploratory yearnings of an exceptionally curious young woman? I’m fascinated by this experience, this warped human experience.
This was the view from aforementioned closet.
Popcorn kernel skin stuck in between teeth. I need to dance, to move, to sing.