I realized today that I cannot taste. I bought yogurt covered pretzels today between classes. They tasted like pencils in my mouth, but I was so hungry I ate one after the next until all four servings in the container were gone. It wasn't a very big container, perhaps the size of a soda can. I realized today I cannot listen to music. Even my favorite songs turn into annoying buzz that gives me a headache. I don't want to listen to music. I listen to "the sound of ocean waves" on youtube instead, which really just sounds like a bunch of scratchy static going in and out. I realized today that I cannot relax. My chest is so tight that it is hard for me to breathe. I go around in constant physical tension because I'm afraid to move my body. It's like ok, in this position you are alive, you are living, but careful if you move, you haven't tried that, and you don't know if you might die, so why risk it. That sounds stupid. It's annoying.
I realized today that I'm not letting these things take over. I realized that I ate the pretzels, even though I didn't want to. I realized that I listened to a whole new Taylor Swift song, even though I didn't want to. I realized that I have been moving my body all day, and have not died. I think about how sad I feel and decide that it is the worst feeling in the world. And then I realize something else...if this is the worst, can't it only get better? Being at the bottom is helpless, devastating, painful, hopeless. But actually, there is hope down there. Because if I've already made it down as far as I can imagine, it's going to have to turn around and work its way back up eventually, right? Like Shania Twain's song, "Up." Can only go up from here. I don't even want to go up very high, I just long for that peace and security of being at ground level. So there's my hope. My first little, tiny, almost insignificant piece of hope. I'm not staying down here forever, I already decided. Can't wait to get out.
