“You suppose you are the trouble
But you are the cure
You suppose that you are the lock on the door
But you are the key that opens it
It’s too bad that you want to be someone else
You don’t see your own face, your own beauty
Yet, no face is more beautiful than yours.”—Rumi (via lovealfine)
Have you ever felt so sad that it’s like you’re ill? When all you can do is lie on the bed and alternate between streaming but silent tears and simply staring into space?
When you call your Mum in desperation and she talks to you in the special voice she used to use when you were tiny, but her using that voice lets you know that she is so, so worried about you and that in turn makes you feel sadder, sicker, more guilty.
When your boyfriend yells at you, but then realises just how sad you are and gets you into your pyjamas because you don’t have the strength, and then brings you the computer and cuddles you tight and tells you it’ll be OK in the morning but you just don’t believe him.
When the thoughts dance and swirl through your mind and when you see the romance in jumping. When you can’t see the point in getting out of bed, when you just want to evaporate and no longer think or feel or even exist.
I both love and hate supermarkets in equal measures.
I love just walking up and down the shelves and looking at the items. Picking things up, comparing them, finding the version with the lowest calories. I love imaging what the food tastes like, pretending for a second that I’m going to buy it. I could spend hours in there, just LOOKING. The numbers fascinate me. I love that little jolt of shock I get when I pick something up and see it has lots of calories in it. I love being in control and only buying the food which I know is “safe” and “healthy”.
I hate how shopping takes so long. I hate how I can never buy any of the food I look at and imagine tasting. I hate how bad it feels when they have run out of “my” brand, I hate having to make the decision about which food is “safe” to buy. I hate that calories wins over price every time. I hate how my shopping is added up in calories, not pounds and pennies. I hate how if there isn’t “enough” fruit and veg in my trolley by the time I get to the check out, I have to go back and get more in order to make my trolley “healthy”.
I remember wandering off in the Louvre, getting lost on purpose. It was wonderful. Even with all those people around me, I was alone. Just me and the paintings and the anonymous people. No one looked at me, no one noticed me. Alone amongst a crowd. Its liberating. The perfect escapism. As close as you can come to freedom without dying.
“Buy a blank notebook. Draw a huge heart on the cover. Don’t write anything negative in here. If you need another outlet, make a separate notebook. This one is all about love, personal growth, and getting back up. Fill it with beautiful images, reaffirming thoughts, and quotes. Write in it every day, and each day write one thing you’re grateful for in your life.”—Kim: Advice from a Mermaid in a Manhole (via julie911)