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The First 45 Minutes
Well, the first 45 minutes of the new year involved something of a brief devolution into crying and trying not to immediately shy away from feeling anything but numb. Trying to think and let it resolve without just choosing to wallow. I think that I have started to conflate numbing myself out without picking myself up off the ground, and it has done my mental health no favors at all.
In the past 45 minutes, I have been trying to think of anything that would be conducive to healthier patterns in the future or knowing what to do in the immediate future to make myself feel any better. I want to engage with stuff the way I used to, and I really don't know whether that is an immature desire for things to "be how they used to be" or if faking it until I make it is the mentally healthy thing to do.
In the past 45 minutes, I have been trying to think of anything that would be conducive to healthier patterns in the future or knowing what to do in the immediate future to make myself feel any better. I want to engage with stuff the way I used to, and I really don't know whether that is an immature desire for things to "be how they used to be" or if faking it until I make it is the mentally healthy thing to do.
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