If acceptance really is the first stage to recovery, then what comes after?
I’ve long since accepted the state that my mind has me in when I’m alone, when I’m with friends, family, people, first thing in the morning, in the middle of the day, late at night, at dusk, at dawn, everywhere and every goddamn time.
It’s like a shadow that follows me around even when there is no light. Except it’s all in my head, trapped beneath my skin, amplified by my hormones, rattling my nerves. My entire being is constantly brought down by this dark cloud that hovers over me, that rains only on me while the sun shines on everyone else. I see the sun. I long for its warmth, sometimes I even feel some of it. I would love to bask in its rays but the evil floating cloud gets in the way.
Nothing is going particularly wrong. Nothing so terrible has shaken my world. Nothing turns to everything and everything is blown out of proportion.
Self-awareness and too much observation has led me to the realization (and acceptance) that this is a purely personal, internal struggle. That something is wrong. With me.
Acceptance, check. What then? Then what?
Unpoppable! 