There was no levity in this post. None at all. And when I googled ‘poison,’ this came up. They made me smile, so here you are. Lookit the silly pretty that is in this world with us, you guys.
My shrink says I struggle hard at the same time every year: now.
I have no idea why. It makes no sense. There is no anniversary in April that I know of. The sun is coming back in this cold place I live. It is warming up. There are some regular events coming up this month and next that I look forward to all year. I have no idea what pushed me into this deep, dark place.
I am so annoyed with myself.
It’s stupid, but I am. I should be done with this shit. I am working on myself. It’s so funny — I’ve never really felt betrayed by my body due to my physical disability (I do get a bit maudlin during fatigue flareups but I still feel like this is something being DONE to me, my body included), but I feel betrayed by my brain for falling into this hole of depression.
I feel like I’ve let myself down, which is utter and pure bullshit that I do not believe any less just because it is crap.
So instead, I’m trying to think of my life in the framework of a poisoning.
I steeped in poison for the first twenty years of my life. I had another twenty of sporadic but painful exposure to it, and my mother has not been the only source of it, either. Other poisons in the form of sexism, ableism, poverty, grief, stress — and rejection, disownment, and indifference from those I love — have interacted with the original poison.
I am flushing it out with EMDR, and talk therapy, and mindfulness and blah blah fickity blah, but when you flush out poison it makes you feel even MORE sick for a while, in new places.
AW, fuck this metaphor is weak. I’m keeping it; I like the photo too much.