It’s no small thing to be alive. I need to remember that I have a duty to myself to embrace this experience. It is temporary. I feel small and insignificant, but so do most people. We’re not. I believe that we are here to awaken each other, to awaken ourselves, through engaging with compassion, by overcoming suffering, by sharing our suffering and growing through those experiences. I am continually restricting myself from my own compassion and kindness. I am starving myself. I am literally depleting myself of good food as well. The literal and the figurative so often meet. I am on the ground, and I watch those around me gallop and dance. I need to pick myself up, somehow. This has been the theme of many posts. Picking myself up. I don’t know where to start. And if I do, I don’t know how to go about it. We write our own instruction manuals. If so, then I’ve forgotten how to write. I’m forgetting something important. I fell asleep around 7 a.m. I was tossing around in bed, in and out of sleep until then. I am living against the natural time cycle for humans. I am a deviant, but I am not devious. I want to regain simple capabilities. Sleep, cooking, eating. I feel like it is something beyond my illness, that it is something fundamentally broken in me. We are tested all the time. Everything is a test. I  feel I am failing. 

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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