Accepting the sadness.

I have tried everything. I’ve walked with an app that fills my head with zen music and guided thoughts. I’ve drunk enough herbal tea to put peppermint trees out of business. I’ve tried partying and the social events that should fill me with gratitude to exist. I have screenshots of positive quotes that elicit no real hope but usually make me snort at the naivety of healthy minds. I drown my veins in caffeine in an attempt to clear the fog that has taken up residence behind my eyes. Nothing works.

The closest remedy to this overwhelming sadness I’ve found is to starve myself. The hollowness that echoes through my empty ribcage replaces all the darkness from my body for a while. I’m never sad when I’m not eating. I’m hollow and numb. Anorexia is an anaesthetic that drugs you up without your knowledge.

This sadness is a sickness. It has seeped through my entire body and reached every crevice and cracked edge. It is my entire being for days and days and no matter how many miles I walk or how much caffeine I flood my system with I can’t sweat this parasite out.

I can’t get rid of it until it leaves. It can be an hour. It can be weeks. It never really leaves though. It is an infection that I can’t bleed out and a virus I can’t starve. It is always there. It pulses through my lungs and shifts across my skin and infects every thought I have. Some days it is manageable. Some days it is barely noticeable. But I live with a subtle dread because I know it is only a matter of time before the fever knocks my body and I am at the mercy of my psychological mistakes.

It took years for me to accept the sadness. To not allow myself to be toxic even if my entire being was at that moment. To understand that it is ok to not move from the sofa for days. It is not how I want my life to be and I hope with every strength that there will be a day when this sadness is a vague and distant memory.

For the time being the parasite is not going anywhere. I have to live and exist with a sadness that has invaded my soul. A sadness that persuades me that this is the way I will live until the day I die.

But there is the smallest



voice that tells me that this will not last forever.

That voice is mine and I will always listen to it.



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