Things are getting more difficult and painstaking. The fire has burnt out and it feels impossible to get out of bed. Time slows down when I'm awake and if I'm not at work, I'm watching garbage TV. I have no one to hang out with because my only 2 friends are busy, and I don't have a car. I feel lonely even when I'm not alone.
I was doing well. I got a great job, I was following my meal plan for the most part, and my mom and I laughed together. Now, I'm calling off work every week because I can't seem to motivate myself. I'm binging and purging almost daily, and even my mom says she sees sadness in my eyes. I'm better than this. There was a time when I never missed a single day of work; there was a time when I didn't sleep 10 hours a night; there was a time when I could motivate myself to do anything. Those were my college years. My schedule was always packed and I felt on top of the world. Now, all I'm left with is my great job that I can't seem to take seriously, and hours of being alone with my thoughts.
It's not all bad though. I'm not the same "disconnected" person I used to be, and it's all thanks to weed. Weed used to be my water, my fuel, my numbing and dumbing agent. Now, I use it to feel alive. I use it to be more aware of the thoughts that constantly roam my mind. I'm tired of hearing from therapists that I "need to connect with my trauma", so I smoke, and all the hurtful memories I've buried away rise from their graves. I hate the uncomfortable feelings that come from connecting with my past, but I love that I have finally found a way to do so. I am one step closer to moving on. Maybe this new "awareness" is what's causing me to be so low. Maybe this is my body's way of telling me that it is finally feeling.
Through all this negativity, there is only one thing I know for sure: I need to go back to school. My college years were the best years of my life. I felt most productive, valuable, and inspired. Work, alone, is not enough for me. If I were to have one wish come true, I would wish for a life-time's worth of education paid for. I know school's not going to magically make all things better. I know I need to continue to do self-work and I have accepted that until that is done, I will be feeling low -- my body's natural response will be to shut down and escape. The self-work is going to be incredibly difficult and arduous, but I will come out on the other side, more at peace.
I'll see a therapist, but I don't want to. I'm so tired of seeing therapists. I just need a friend with whom I can be completely vulnerable. Someone to lend a ear and empathize -- without judgment or lecturing -- and help me through all this. Until then, blogging and smoking shall do. I know recovery is not a linear process -- I just wish the hard parts didn't have to last so long.
