USP - Day 29
I keep tonguing the hard little bump on the roof of my mouth, where my hard and soft palette meet. Illness anxiety is uniquely awful when there's something undeniably wrong with your body. I could have a molar growing in at a funny angle. I could have a tooth infection. It could be cancer. I joke about it but it really scares me.
I've spent my whole life longing to be carefree. So much of what I love is guided by the desire to shed my intruding thoughts and overbearing anxiety. Trying to cultivate a sort of free, peaceful nature that I'm not prone to. But I was walking in the park today and I realized that my efforts haven't been fruitless. It has sort of worked.
My mom used to tell me that if I wanted something bad enough, I'd get it. I didn't believe it back then because I wanted to be thin more than anything, and despite my efforts I always remained chubby and strange.
I believe it now though. As a kid, it wasn't thinness that I craved; it was acceptance and love and community. All things I now have.
Now I believe that if you want to be something badly enough, you can. In a deeper, solely personal, long-term way. People morph. Being self-aware makes you conscious of the direction you're morphing in. If you hold truth and kindness above all, and you're vigilant and attentive about your own honesty and compassion, over time you'll find it comes naturally.
That's what I believe at least. I'm not entirely care-free all the time. Obviously. Cymbalta helps a lot. But also I fight for it. Daily. I seek joy in leaving my worried brain for just a second. I try to emulate kids, or people in love, or idiots, sometimes. At least in the ways they get carried away without hesitance and anxiety. I've learned to find peace in the sun, and the color green, and the arts that I can lose myself to.
Because that's the sort of thing that calls to me. Not my aggressive tendencies to over-think and analyze. I think who you are has a lot to do with who you want to be.
I'm still poking at that little lump in my mouth, and I will poke at it until it goes away. If you find out I've been hospitalized from taking a knife to my jaw in attempts to surgically remove the thing myself, don't be alarmed.
But, thank GOD I can still walk to the park on a sunny day to watch families playing and see trees in the wind and hear people singing and forget how heavy the world is for one single moment.