Lying to Everyone, Myself Included

Why is being healthy so fucking boring. I’ve come to realize that, though I need it, I hate stability. I love when things are chaotic and messy, especially when life is chaotic and messy regardless. When bad things are happening, I want to put myself in bad situations so my actions at least match the atmosphere. By choosing to protect my physical and mental wellbeing, I end up feeling lifeless. I used to live for the weekend, and now every day just blends together. And all I have to show for it is a less-angry gut and a lack of alcohol-induced bloating.

I’m fed up and sad and tired and I miss the one person I’ve been trying not to allow myself to miss. I have been lying to everyone, myself included, about being on an upswing. Mentally, little has changed from early April to now, except that I’ve gained the strength to repress. I guess that counts for something.

At least I cried today. I had a major outpouring of emotions that I’ve been locking away a few hours ago. It helped to relieve some of that pressure and allow myself to feel it as it washed over me.

I just hope things will get easier.