I am healing.
I've noticed it in the little things.
I've noticed it the way that I have conquered the intense anxiety and depression over the past seven months. I've noticed it in the absence from my dance class and then upon returning to dance, remembering all of the steps as if I had practiced them tirelessly in the weeks and months I neglected the class.
I am healing.
I see everything I've worked for finally come to a place of peace and understanding.
You'd think this would be a good thing. But I am afraid of it. I am afraid of feeling better and I'm afraid of getting better.
What happens when I feel better and something worse happens to me or my family? What happens when the universe rips me apart even more than it already has and it's finally just enough to end my life?
I'm afraid to feel good. Feeling good in the past has meant unawareness that has lead to bad things happening to me. Feeling good in the past has lead to the unthinkable, heart breaking, soul squeezing distress.
So why should I allow myself to feel good now?
The logical, intelligent part of me knows that it doesn't matter how I try to avoid life from happening. It knows that more bad things are in store for me whether or not I allow myself to feel good or to feel bad. The logical part of me knows there is no escaping the knives in my back and the shattering of my heart.
I just want my life to be boring. For once.
I want to not worry so much about things. I want to allow myself the peace that I deserve. But I know that the second I allow it, the unimaginable will happen. Again.
And I will be left alone, forsaken in the stormy seas of grief and despair.
