These last few days have been hard. Some events transpired and it brought me back to where I was at Wartburg. Alone, depressed, helpless, trapped. I feel like I have nowhere to go, there’s nothing I can do to fix the situation. Up until now I’ve been mostly just feeling angry. Anger is my default. I hate that anger is my default. That every time something goes wrong I feel the rising rage in the pit of stomach, traveling toward my mouth and forcing myself to swallow my screams. To not react. To not hurt. To stay calm. It feels impossible. The rising tide inside me, the bubbling wrath. It’s just nonstop energy and it feels like nothing I do is enough to get it out.
But I’m in my room now. It’s storming. I lit a candle. I turned on my fairy lights and my boyfriend is quietly getting a start on the psych homework we have due tomorrow. I can hear the tires sloshing through the puddles on the highway outside my window. I hear the gentle pattering on rain against the roof and dripping down the drain. I hear the distant rumble of thunder. I feel isolated from the storm. I feel calm. I feel warm. I feel safe.
This is not Wartburg. I am not my eighteen year old self. I have a willing support system. What happened is not going to ruin me. It’s not going to send me into a spiraling depression that nosedives into an abusive relationship. I’ve grown stronger. I am happy. I can trudge through the rest of the week and then I’m going to be able to pick myself back up again. I’m going to get better.
This will not break me.
siriuslypadfoot 