It’s extremely hard pulling ideas together to form a post when you don’t feel any motivation at all. I’d been hoping the joy and bits of pleasure would come back these last few days, and promising to jump on when they did, but they never came. Of course some came in moments of excitement and inspiration, and I loved them; desiring them to stay with me throughout the whole day. I happily ran with the ideas and tried to capture them in words in my journal. They were pleasurable in the moment, but they didn’t last. And they are still there in my journal as proof of great moments lived, ready to be formed into posts and such, yet their purpose disappeared, leaving me all alone again in my strange place of heaviness as I patiently become more aware and dependent on myself.
So here are some words that came and filled my mind in the company of a good friend, cinnamon frothed lattes, and the sound of airplane engines humming in the near distance. Oh, and those airplanes are equally a source of excitement as they are torture, as their sounds send new inspiration rushing up my body and bursting in my heart, yet instantly kill all passionate love with the fact that I’m most likely the only one here that will be left behind. Those people, the ones with luggage and neck pillows and places to go, they’ll be gone. And I’ll be here, writing what comes and shedding some tears, yet soaring through miles of places and dreams and beautiful things with my feet having never left the ground.
It’s hard when everything becomes heavy. Whether it suddenly slams joy to the ground or gradually moves in like hovering fog, I despise it. Everything about it’s being depletes me of my own. It can have many thoughts and motives behind it, yet the heaviness remains consistent. Today’s is beginning to become recognizable; it feels like unhappiness and a vague mixture of anger and displeasure with life, and for some reason I direct it all back towards myself.
It’s because I’m afraid. I’m frightened to the core of how I once looked to one with eyes filled with love, and now a sense of nothingness and displeasure. But it’s passing, it’s not my forever. A darkness that used to be my constant norm has become random episodes that last but minutes. Those moments feel like eternity and I know their feeling all too well, but I remain encouraged. I come back, sooner and sooner. Each day I can see how far off the darkness is, and I can see how far I have come. And it will only get better. Yes, at times it returns and I panic at its’ nearness, but its just a feeling. I have new thoughts now, new truth to act on when it comes.
I already have the victory - this is my hope that gets me through, enabling me to gather all my might to strengthen what remains.
Then it all becomes clear. It’s a clean slate, a new canvas, a new start where the old barely comes to memory. I hear a new name ring in my heart, the one I’ve always been called but now hear with different ears. It’s a sound that rings to my ears alone, awakening me to truly live. What I’ve carried along my whole life is becoming an identity that I’ve never before lived, and now I’ve got hold of it and I’m blazing ahead in this life with purpose.
What only I can live.
Emotional health - this is what it’s like to be made new, to be transformed in the renewal of your mind; and that name of yours begins to take on a whole new meaning.