I'm not sure what I expected to happen when I arrived in New York, but it certainly wasn't what has been going on. I think I thought I'd adapt better- I've only been gone for 2 months. Somehow it feels big and intimidating. My anxiety is through the roof, I've had a total of about 6 hours sleep in the last 72 hours, my eating disordered behaviors have reached a level I haven't encountered for a really long time... I don't know. I feel lost and frightened and hopeless. I think it's partly because I am around people who I KNOW care about me, and yet I feel like I have to hide how I am doing to not worry them. So I am putting on this front that everything is great/wonderful/never been better, and behind the falsity of my smile, I'm crumbling.
I am trying to be okay. I am trying to take care of myself and just enjoy my time here. I'm not having a great deal of success. I feel like I am drowning in a sea of hopelessness. I don't see anything in the coming weeks/months/years that I have to look forward to. Just falling further and further into the same old hole, and not sure which way is the way out. Up, right? It's obvious. But heading "up" is not quite as straightforward as it sounds when you are stuck in quicksand.
eleven months old.
4 weeks ago