Moments of weakness. Moments of strength.

I suppose they’re quite common.

The problem is that sometimes, I have too much time.
Two or three minutes will do.
It's was always the same, for example, when I lay in bed at night, and couldn’t sleep (I dealt with insomnia for some time), and you can’t protect yourself from some things, some thoughts.
That’s what it’s like right now. The easiest decisions seem like impossible tasks. In these moments, I’m so happy I’m alone.
It feels good, because I know that my face just falls apart, and I want to scream and cry.
It feels bad, because I often don’t trust myself to be alone. Not even yet.
I haven’t had a relapse for at least 6 months. But I imagine it a lot. I play with the thought of slipping back into old patterns, because it gives me power.

There was a time when I didn’t want to feel better. A long time, actually. Because fighting against something takes energy and I was so exhausted that I didn’t want to fight.
I’m still exhausted, but it’s getting better. I sleep, again. Entire nights just snoring in my bed. It’s the most amazing feeling to wake up in the morning and actually be kind of awake.
Or I’ll just be sitting in class or meeting my friends and suddenly I’m flooded with happiness.
Pure, unexplainable happiness.
I used to be afraid of that, too. Because happiness passes, and pain and sadness are more constant feelings.

In the past few months, though, I have met some wonderful people who taught me that it is okay to be sad, and that I don’t always have to smile.
There is no way to express my gratefulness.
But the most important thing I’ve learned is that I can trust myself more and more.
It’s still a long way from being happy just because I’m me, but I’m getting there.
And that journey is the craziest, funniest, saddest, inspiring thing.

And, just because I feel like it, here is Flyleaf's "All Around Me". I love this band, and especially this song.
Enjoy!