Have you ever found comfort in a bed that was not yours?
Ever nestled under a blanket or head to a pillow where the place was foreign yet the comfort was immediate?
Now, have you ever experienced the feeling of returning to your own bed and suddenly “your spot” is now the starting point to hours of disrupted and discomforted attempt at slumber?
I correlate this feeling with recent releases of habits, former best friends, as well as the love of my life.
It was not until i left the bassinets I found months to years of snugness in, that i had to recreate a place of warmth within my own on my own.
Prior, it had been a consistently made bed that I found myself lying atop. My supposed sanctuary that was being treated as a campsite. The reinvention of my independence all while feeling discomfort.
An exclusive fortress to which I now do not wish to have tainted or disrupted by any bodies foreign to my soul.
To know my heart, to be opportune enough for my soul, is the same protection to my bed that is stood true.
A wholesome feeling that had not been felt since prior to a dark era that accumulated some years ago. To be so at peace that confidently can shut a blind eye to any and all that disrupt that.
To be sincerely confident in what should feel like a lonely era, is when I knew growth and release.
The cure to clinical depression, felt like a potion between my cerebral hemisphere. The brain blast to “never being able to leave hell, if the mind does not.”
To some leaving and feeling such repercussions/backlash was worse than Hell itself.
The fear to potentially swimming through my feelings to stay sane brought my soul to a sense of nirvana.
The greatest of grievances presented themselves wrapped in metaphorical yet emotional bows. Because such triumphs are never handed, they are always earned.
An ego demolishing, yet lingering attempt that forced an era of isolation. A time period to which forcefully reminded me how quickly something such as personal health can be stripped. Outer personal health is a reflection of the inner self.
To consume the emotions and thoughts of beings that are not wasting so much as an exhale on your wellbeing, was the real diagnosis. Some wear their hearts on their sleeves, my weariness & consumption flared across my once porcelain flesh.
A painful punishment to neglecting my emotional wellbeing. A force to take ownership of my inner life.
Although my own new year has already begun, a mantra that will be the tone setter to the calendar holiday to backpack:
How you love yourself is how you teach others to love you as well.
See you soon.
-t
Ever nestled under a blanket or head to a pillow where the place was foreign yet the comfort was immediate?
Now, have you ever experienced the feeling of returning to your own bed and suddenly “your spot” is now the starting point to hours of disrupted and discomforted attempt at slumber?
I correlate this feeling with recent releases of habits, former best friends, as well as the love of my life.
It was not until i left the bassinets I found months to years of snugness in, that i had to recreate a place of warmth within my own on my own.
Prior, it had been a consistently made bed that I found myself lying atop. My supposed sanctuary that was being treated as a campsite. The reinvention of my independence all while feeling discomfort.
An exclusive fortress to which I now do not wish to have tainted or disrupted by any bodies foreign to my soul.
To know my heart, to be opportune enough for my soul, is the same protection to my bed that is stood true.
A wholesome feeling that had not been felt since prior to a dark era that accumulated some years ago. To be so at peace that confidently can shut a blind eye to any and all that disrupt that.
To be sincerely confident in what should feel like a lonely era, is when I knew growth and release.
The cure to clinical depression, felt like a potion between my cerebral hemisphere. The brain blast to “never being able to leave hell, if the mind does not.”
To some leaving and feeling such repercussions/backlash was worse than Hell itself.
The fear to potentially swimming through my feelings to stay sane brought my soul to a sense of nirvana.
The greatest of grievances presented themselves wrapped in metaphorical yet emotional bows. Because such triumphs are never handed, they are always earned.
An ego demolishing, yet lingering attempt that forced an era of isolation. A time period to which forcefully reminded me how quickly something such as personal health can be stripped. Outer personal health is a reflection of the inner self.
To consume the emotions and thoughts of beings that are not wasting so much as an exhale on your wellbeing, was the real diagnosis. Some wear their hearts on their sleeves, my weariness & consumption flared across my once porcelain flesh.
A painful punishment to neglecting my emotional wellbeing. A force to take ownership of my inner life.
Although my own new year has already begun, a mantra that will be the tone setter to the calendar holiday to backpack:
How you love yourself is how you teach others to love you as well.
See you soon.
-t