For as long as I can remember, I have heard the phrases “I want to be happy, ” “the journey to happiness,” and “you create your own happiness.” Happiness is entirely overrated and more often than not misconstrued for a synonym for feeling fulfilled or content. I’d rather not feel one emotion continually forever. I like that I have an extensive spectrum and scale of intense emotions.
This past year, word got back to me that I cannot control my emotions. First of all, fuck you. Second of all, I think that being able to suppress one’s emotions is a defense mechanism. I’m exhausted with the never-ending need to cater to other people. Everything is offensive to someone.
I care a lot about myself. However, I would be failing myself if I wanted to “just be happy.” I feel like for the first time in a very long while, I am okay. I am okay with who I am, with how I interact with others, with what I eat, and with how I live.
For the past five years, I have been struggling with an eating disorder and it has taken me this long to be okay with eating a meal and not making myself sick. Instead of envisioning how much better I would feel if I hadn’t ate all of the food I binged on, I imagine all the food in my stomach having a par-tay. This helps me to make food my approachable and lovable for me to consume. I owe most of this progress to my wonderful fella, who makes me feel like a million dollars every day.
Overall, it has been a long trek to feeling okay. I still relapse into the habitual routine of darkness that my mind lays out for me, but there is light seeping through the black.