MushyFeelings. #3 Fresh start

I want a fresh start but every time I’d been given a fresh start I seem to forget how much I wanted it in the first place and everything ends up being the same. I always tell myself tomorrow I’ll be better and I’ll do better but then each day just ends up being the same.

Fresh starts are hard to come by. There are so many moments in your life, where it seems like it would just be easier to forget about all that had happened in the past and simply let go of all that you have spent time on. Knocking down the house of cards you had building, the one where each card was placed with such caution and concentration.

She and I had once talked about how it may be easier to have fallen into a coma, to be in a car crash, to be in an accident that would simply put us in a place, where we can say: ‘This is where I can change everything and begin anew.’ We want to hold on to the precious memories that make us who we are, but throw away all of those that cause pain and anxiety. But looking back, it’s those moments of uttermost heartbreak and despair that build you up to be who you are today.

I have heard from those suffering from depression that it’s beneficial to count the little things. To appreciate that today, you went to the grocery store and bought eggs, and you felt the muscles on your arms not weaken carrying the bag home, that you entered your room without breaking down into yet another flood of tears that are all too familiar.

For her, it’s not enough.

She is a perfectionist. She is comforted by neatly organised academic notes, she becomes at peace with the satisfying feeling of completing a task. She meticulously maintains a clean room, with each spec in order, in it’s designated place.

To you my dear friend. Here’s what I want to say.
Today, you may have written for me that it’s a good day. I thought that I was getting better. Though, as I was Skyping a few friends in the evening, things almost revert back to the original. I limited the amount of people who knew about everything, afraid that it would circulate right under my nose, without my control. I need that control, it’s the last bit of it i have left.

I don’t talk about it much now. It just lingers. It’s in the corner, watching, observing. But the moment it’s mentioned, tears start welling up into my eyes, and my heart tightens at the thought that it is still present. Why can’t I get better and leave it behind.

Fresh starts don’t come easy. But it’s also impossible to leave the past behind you when it’s so much a part of YOU. Make lists. Count the sunrises. Wave to the sunsets. Buy eggs. Buy milk. Take it easy. Don’t be so hard on yourself.

(a classic, may you end up inspired and comforted.


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