I don’t like the direction this blog is headed. It’s become a place where I rant more than I observe, evaluate and repair. I don’t like that at all. I think it’s time that it blooms, it blossoms into someting more than the mumblings of my misery.
My mental health has been fluctuating quite a bit the past few months, the past couple weeks more than usual. It’s because of being home, being pulled out of a routine that although wasn’t healthy, was simple. It’s simple being home too, but it’s different which for some reason perplexes me. Makes everything seem harder than it is. There’s this gratitude I have, one I never used to have. I used to believe that the basics, as in a home, food, money to have fun, and all that, were all entitled to me, a birthright.
It’s now that I have gratitude, for every little thing. It really is true, you only learn to appreciate truly once you’ve lost. When I lost my reason to live, my reason to be happy, my safety, my security, my home, it took a lot for me to finally be grateful for all that I have or have had. It’s with this gratitude that comes the ability to blossom, to bloom.
I’m glad I’ve become this way, although I am more reserved, tired, and I just am not bothered by many things, I used to be finicky, I needed things to go the way I wanted, I needed to get what I wanted. At this point, I’m grateful to have food and a bed. It takes a lot to get to this point, especially growing up in constant turmoil. It’s almost as if my entire life up until 2 years ago led me to force myself to build this caccoon around myself. Pushed me to the point where I couldn’t survive had I been a measily worm. Now I finally have the time, the surroundings look clear enough to blossom, to evolve into this metaphoric butterfly.
It’s often said that character stems through difficulty, and that’s true, it does. Had everything been as easy as it was, I’d probably still be thinking that getting upset at my mom for knocking on my door was okay. It’s shit like that you don’t realise is fucked until you get to a point. It’s weird because tragedy shouldn’t have been the cause of this character development. It could’ve been anything else. Though this was the hand I was dealt. Some are dealt worse and come out better, it’s those that I aspire to be like.
Though it is about taking it one day at a time.
Jim Carrey wrote his newbook because of some misinforomation he recieved about Hawaii being nuked, and him only having 10 minutes left to live. He was grateful for everything at that point, rather than trying to run, or cursing the world out, he was in a place of gratitude. That’s what I hope to achieve.
If I had 10 minutes left, I’d take a walk. I’d walk not saying a single word. Walk straight down going towards the sun. I’d walk until it all ended. It’s tragic that I wouldn’t be grateful, but I wouldn’t be angry. I wouldn’t be entitled, I’d accept it and spend it in silence.
I wonder how all of you would spend it. I genuinely do.
A Sane Undertaking 