500 lb anvil

The past couple years have not been good for my mental health. But, if you've been paying attention, the past few months have been fine. They've been good. The end of the school year was looking up, even if I was stressed. In June my brain relaxed a bit. I was removed enough from the period of my life where I hated everything about myself that I felt really good. England helped me feel more calm than I had in ages, and I was able to sort out my stress and reorient my thoughts in a more positive direction. I felt like I had grown past that angsty-depressed mess that had plagued me for so long. I felt prepared to face the school year, stress and all, because I was finally okay with who I was and my mind felt clear and light.

And I still feel that way! I promise I'm alright. But I've been up at the school this week working on summer assignments, and guess what I noticed today?

They're not gone. Those thoughts, those emotions, those fears, those insecurities. I didn't send them packing, I buried them. I didn't move away, I took a vacation. Today I was sitting in a classroom surrounded by peers and talking about assignments, and I felt it. I felt those feelings hanging over me like a 500 lb anvil (you know, like in the cartoons). I thought about the stress and the future and that anvil swayed on a creaking rope tied to the sky. Other people talked and laughed with their backs turned to me, and my brain sunk down in my skull, into this inky sponge that absorbs my thoughts and numbs everything. I'd forgotten what it felt like, that numb panic, those drowning thoughts that crashed against the inside of my head and were too loud to ignore. And today I felt it. I saw the anvil and my chest seized up.

Because I want to be okay. I like feeling happy. I like not hating myself. I like being calm and I like knowing that it will all work out in the end.

But that anvil, that girl I was...I know how that anvil feels when it falls and breaks my ribs and crushes my lungs. And I know that girl. I know her well and can feel her breathing down my neck, waiting for her time to wrap those fingers around my neck and squeeze.

So here's hoping for a good year. For that rope to hold my anvil in the sky and that girl to find a new hobby. But...if not, I'm preemptively apologising for my future state and I ask for your understanding. We can't all be strong.