POSPHENOUS

Phosphenous - be thankful

I was originally going start this off with apologizing for how I'm still far from being able to be positively supportive to other people-be it close friends, decent friends of mine, or even strangers on the internet. I was going to apologize for not being one of those people who write about how strong you are, how, regardless of your pain, you can still wake up, get out of bed, and get through the day-how big of an achievement that is. I was going to apologize for not helping out others as much as I can, even with small and simple gestures. I was going to apologize for not knowing how to.

But here's a little piece of honesty-I don't know how I'm supposed to reach my hand out and pull people back into standing with their own two feet when my hand itself is a broken, marred thing. Their survival is an important, important thing, but what about the shame that chokes me? What about being the one to blame when they don't survive the right way-when they end up deteriorating into another ragged, strangled thing (just like me), and I'm the only one to blame for that? What about the first, the biggest, the darkest, the most burning truth?

And yet again, a friend of mine told me once to be "a little bit more selfish", but what he didn't know is that I, most of the days, am a very, very selfish person. Yes, muchacho, I am a creature with lungs full of ego. I take steps and retract steps and stay still and hide and hold back words and tears and cries and screams-all just to save myself. I go through layers of selflessness just to prioritize my ego. Like refraining from getting the only kind of help that will help me stand on my own two feet, because I know getting that help will require a lot of opening up, a lot of talking, a lot of rushed-out honesty, and I am not yet fearless. Because I know those will all make me feel like I've been found guilty for all the wrongs and almost-wrongs and maybe-wrongs and therefore, end up disintegrating into a lump of helplessness. And I am not yet fearless. You see, remember what I said? My secret, that sick, humongous, relentless, persistent truth, is this-I am afraid.

And for once, I won't apologize for it. This isn't easy. Not saying sorry. But I'll try. I won't say sorry because I progress very, very slowly. Progress is progress. Broken bones don't heal overnight. Not even in months. And hearts take even longer to heal. Especially a misshapen one like mine. So I won't say sorry. Not now. Not for this. Because it's not like I'm not trying. It's not like I have not ruined my own skin and bones trying to find a way to stay on my feet, to be upon the ground instead of under it.

I am not a girl of promises. I'm an explosion tied up in knots, going fast-forward, rewinding, unwinding, freezing, slow-motion progressing. So I won't promise big things. I won't promise things I can't keep. I won't say that I will never slip back into this pit, into the embrace of that bitch, but always know this-I'm trying. Not always my best because sometimes my best is shit and many times it takes a lot, a /lot/ to do my best, but I'm trying. I'm trying. And I, too, will try not to be sorry all the damned fucking time.

I'll try to be thankful of me. Of these two hands and two eyes and this mangled, mangled limbs. I'll try to be thankful of this mind-this mind that is both the best and the worst part of me. Home of my brightest and my darkest. Where I am me, and where I cannot be. I'll try to be thankful that I have a mind sane enough to want to be grateful at all. To admit it. That I'm grateful. That I'm fortunate. I'm lucky. So very lucky. Look at me. Look at you. Look at you, Jay. You're lucky. To have a better part of you that you can still listen to. Keep listening to it. Breathe. And for once, just for this once-don't be sorry.

Be thankful. For yourself, most of all. Alright?

#honesttostars