I struggle with anxiety. I worry my love no longer loves me. I lie in our bed alone and I panic. It makes me feel unbeautiful. Anxiety is a torturous game where all my dreams are placed in front of me and I to stare at them until I question the reality of it all. I tell myself all is fine and yet I believe none of it. It’s been over a week since I’ve had a panic attack. I feel I am in the midst of concocting one. It brews in my chest, my eyes begin to steam. All is fine but my head whispers differently. I pray for the day my love is not here and I am able to accept that his distance does not correlate to his lack of love. I dream of a day I am capable of surviving.

I feel so cursed. I went to bed so early because I have to get up for work at 5am. I woke up at 1:30am and now it’s 3am and I still can’t sleep. I’m contemplating getting up and painting. I’m also suddenly starving. I know if Luke were here I’d be sound asleep with a full belly.

These past few months have been weird on my mind. I quit a course I was so passionate about because I couldn’t cope with anxiety. Every day since then I have planned to call a psychologist and make an appointment. I’ve suffered debilitating panic attacks less frequently but can not stop binge eating. I loathe my body and consuming such revolting amounts of junk food makes me miserable yet I can’t stop. Mental illness is weird and irrational and I’m not ready to be strong and brave and stand up for myself to myself.

In my restlessness I also researched how to propagate succulents after somewhat failing miserably. Now I know how to do it, I’m really excited to try again. I can’t wait until I’m good at gardening.

I’ve been making pots for indoor plants out of recycled paper. I can’t sleep so after lying in bed for hours I got up and painted two pots. One of them looks so pretty, like the ocean. I hope it looks as nice as I think it does when I wake up in the morning

(Source: wordsnquotes.com)