So, here we are again, pretending to have an audience while my word-lust follows me around at 10:35pm. It's been too long, and I have a few things to say about that. They may or may not be related, but I hope you enjoy them, my deeply loyal imaginary friends.
I created this blog and won't tell anyone about it. That is the first and only secret I will reveal tonight. Except for how I've been reminiscing about the days I went crazy and did nothing for two weeks. Maybe a month. I lost track of time.
The glorious part about it was that I got down to my bare minimum, and was able to hear my body asking for the most basic needs. I do so much based on routine. I listen to my body only when I want to fight off a cold or some other illness. Otherwise, I manipulate it. When it was tired, I would give it coffee. When it was exhausted, I'd try and sneak in a few more chores. I was deceptive. I loathe deception.
I think I've gotten better about taking care of myself. I'm making more of an effort. And it's just like my body to snuff out the routine manipulation with mental illness.
Mental illness is my own personal supervillain. My worst fear.
So that was on my mind today. My fear of crazy. Let me tell you, it only takes one trip to realize you don't want to go back.
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