Secrets ||Signed, Me||

Reflection

Mom and I watched the Yet To Come: In Busan concert on prime video and all the songs brought up lots of memories, both good and bad. I was thinking back on the past three or so years of my life and I can't believe I made it through that.

A part of me is glad and grateful I'm in a better place now, but the other is wishing I could go back to that kind of pain. It was very comforting, no matter how harmful it was for my physical and mental health. I was pretty much half-dead but trying not to show it. 

With my baggy clothes and fake smile, I wasn't close to feeling content but the voices in my head and figures taking over my life overpowered that and made me feel welcome and accepted. Less lonely. Now the voices are way quieter, mostly gone now. And the figures don't visit nearly as often. I find myself feeling "better" but still empty. 

Everything feels off all the time and in a way that is quite unnerving. I'm not very fond of this plane of existence. It would be nice to find a middle ground between where I used to be and where I am now because now I'm more comfortable in my body but back then I felt more comfortable in my mind. 

But there are trade offs for both. 

When I'm more comfortably in my body, I'm always trying too keep it that way and aren't eating as much, and when I'm more comfortable in my mind, it feels like I'm drowning when I'm around other people for too long or isolated without physical comforts like music and books.

Also, when I'm more comfortable in my mind, everything is brighter and louder and more textured and I get aggravated way easier. And with both, I'm numb when things stray too far. 

When comfortable with my mind, I feel numb to all exterior stimuli like other people's emotions and events going on around me but when I'm comfortable in my body, I feel numb to all interior stimuli like feelings and shit like that. 

I still need to figure out how to be comfortable in both my body and my mind because I've never been able to have both at the same time. They always switch, triggered either by me or things that happen around me and I can never seem to grasp onto whichever one's leaving tight enough. 

Since I stopped binding because of severe rib pain, I've been comfortable in my mind most of the time, occasionally feeling comfortable in my body while admiring my legs or hands. Those are the two parts of me that I'll always love no matter how the rest of my body looks. I can always look down at my hands and legs and be content, and almost happy, with how they look. And sometimes even not feel guilty for liking how they look, which doesn't happen very often. 

I just wish the balance of comfort wasn't so complex and confusing.