A Rambling.

I’ve decided to leave theatre school and move back home.

I don’t know where my passion went.

I want to write a book. About my life. About myself.

I worry I cannot achieve as I’ve achieved before. I worry that I’ve hit my peak. but it’s still the ascent. This will be a year of rebuilding, be it neural pathways or otherwise. But I suppose it’s all neural pathways in the end. This year is beginning something like 2012, and that was a good year. This will be an even better year. What feels impossible will be made possible. Hope felt impossible, but here we are. Slow rebuilding. Baby steps will take me far. I got up at 7:30 today. I fell asleep in the library afterwards, but some beginnings are rockier than others. Sigh. Sleep regulation. Diet regulation. Discipline. Discipline in all areas. Extreme self-care. I miss living in a nice area. But I’ll have to make due with what I have. Everything has it’s time.  Listening to the Fleet Foxes. Maybe I should write an album. Write write write. Write a book of poetry. A poem a day? Ten poems a day? Ha ha. 16, one for each waking hour. So 16 poems a day. That’s crazy. One a day makes sense. My mind is easily distracted. I am easily distracted. I am a distraction. I have homework.

Few hour pause.

Watched a documentary about people living with bipolar, Of Two Minds, available on Netflicks. Interesting accounts of peoples experiences. Am wondering what to do with the rest of my life. Will I ever kill myself? If I stay on meds, probably not. Grad school. Possibly. Law school. Possibly. Must finish my undergrad. Must stay alive. Must do more than stay alive. Library cubicle. I slept here. Now odd. Coffee with cream, there is a lot of fat in me. In me. In all good things. I’m wearing long johns. I don’t miss school. I don’t miss sanity. I do somewhat miss insanity, but I know it’s for the better to be apart from it. I have the collected works of Anne Sexton. I have many books I need to read. A book a month, please. Should I move home early? Should I get a hamster? It would be selfish to get a hamster and know I’ll be moving in a few months, to give the little fuzzy away. A few months. It doesn’t seem that bad when I put it like that. I want to write a meaningful blog. I need to be honest, but in all honestly, there is so little to write about. Well, that’s never true. I’m  making big decisions. Big steps. In terms of mental illness, I am stable. Not living in great health, but stable. Almost a year since first hospitalization. Wow. Those awful foot slippers. And the terrible food. And the peace of nothing. Treat the next few months like a hospitalization. Just time to be free. Minimal to do. Except I have to cook and clean. But that’s good for me. Very good. I have boxes. I am smiling to myself. Good good. Weight training. That changed me, many years ago. Yoga changed me. Systema. Martial arts. New experiences, key key key.

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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