“i slaughtered myself at an alter you built. god complex - shrine of who you think you are. but, make no mistake - i tell this story now.”
- smspoetry
pretty much
“Don’t be afraid to lose what was never meant to be.”
— Unknown (via thoughtkick)
I am looking to better days. I am breaking away. I am off the beaten path. You may scoff at where I’m at. But it’s exactly where I need to be. It’s exactly where we will see whose made of steel who will reel and hide. I can confide I tried. And I tried and tried. And i made it through to you. I found love. I found hope. I found you. And I made it through.
I exert considerable effort now to keep my depression distant like how the sun is to the moon. I practice mindfulness now, and I am aware whenever I feel de-energized, depressed and anxious. I just observe these feelings and tell myself that it’s just my mental illness and I should never confuse my biology with my true self. And I am a smart, creative and loving person who just happens to have a chemical imbalance in the brain. I love writing poetry. I love spending time with my family. I love going to the beach. These are the things that make me who I am. Love is the reason why I get out of bed in the morning. Love is the reason why I have this strong commitment to recovering from being suicidal, isolated and self-destructive. Love is the reason why I have this strong desire to change my life for the better. I jog at least half an hour a day because releasing endorphins is just freaking great. I forgive myself now for the little things. Even my father. I have a haircut once every two weeks because I notice that when I look in the mirror and feel handsome—my whole being feels lovely. I text my best friend. I tell him that I’m still fighting my depression. I tell him that I’m doing okay. I eat healthy foods, and I have a schedule every day for my life, and I’m fucking accomplishing things. I’m going out of the house more often now. I’m not that afraid anymore. I’m really making progress. I’m free from the four corners of my dark room and realize that it doesn’t have to be my prison anymore. I can simply choose to go outside and smell the yellow flowers and tell them that I love them. Because I am growing like them. Because I am beautiful like them. And I am grateful for my struggle because it has taught me that I am more resilient than I think. I listen to a song, and I just keep on hoping that things will get better because I am working on it every single day to choose the things that are best for my healing. And let myself be enough.
Juansen Dizon, Recovery (via juansendizon)