Who’s ready for a mental health post? This girl! If you are not so inclined, now would be a good time to skip the words and just look at the pretty pictures. Making this kind of painting is my new favorite funtime/sadtime/anytime activity. So fun, so colorful, so easy.
It’s been a strange day. This morning I decided to go live in the forest where I can’t hurt anyone anymore, but I’m feeling less melodramatic and more sane now. Actually, incredibly sane. Over the past few days I’ve found myself in a deeply shitty situation, which (in my book) self-injury was practically *invented* for. The thought of cutting drifted into my head out of habit but it never really stuck, and I haven’t had any intrusive thoughts or intense urges. Hell. Fucking. Yes. It’s been like this since I threw my knife away in August, and I’m so grateful. Thanks, brain.
I got my car serviced today, which involved spending four and a half hours sitting in the dealership furiously doing sudoku and trying to keep my godawful anxiety from leaking/exploding out of my skin. Things began improving marginally as soon as I got out of the dealership and started moving. Going for a drive, pacing around my house, and taking a walk are all things that have helped me enormously today. The pull between motion and stasis is a consistent theme in my life, and motion is always the better choice. My alternate plan was to lie in bed marathoning Law and Order until I passed out… again, but what I did instead was better.
I took in the first warm, beautiful, sunny day of the season. My walk involved delicious food, drink, and ice cream in the sun, making a new friend, and briefly possessing a giving flower. Now I’m home alone, listening to music and painting. My hands aren’t shaking anymore and I feel like I can breathe again. Being alone feels really nice right now, and that’s pretty sweet. I don’t have to be afraid of myself. I don’t have to be on constant guard or mental lockdown — I can just listen, paint, and be.