Been working on several short stories and trying to get into the mindset of sharing my writing. Recently finished polishing this piece (or at least it’s in a place where I feel ok sharing it). XX
Today it is raining, and I am in a slump. I know I am in a slump because that is when I cannot look away from my flaws, and I pick at the ugly sensation hiding behind my collarbone until I feel raw and sadder than before. I have put on seven different outfits, and my cheeks are flushed from exertion. I pick until I don’t like what I see in the mirror. I pick at myself until I forget that I actually love my body, I pick until I cannot anymore because I need to go to class.
It is hard, because I am a rational person, so I say ‘You know that’s not right. This isn’t what you really think. Be kind to yourself’. But I don’t want to be kind to myself, or love my body, or do what all my caring friends tell me to do. I want to nap and be left alone.
I cannot look in mirrors, or be around people, or be left alone. Looking in mirrors will only mean I see more flaws. Being around people means having to pretend I’m not in a slump. Being left alone only lets me fall deeper into it. Slumping is hard.
I am in a slump and feel chubbier than I deserve to think of myself. I chastise myself for not exercising, for going for the extra fry that I didn’t really want to eat. In the mirror, my shirt doesn’t fit right. I eat a salad – not because I think it’s delicious, but because I’ve been taught that lettuce will make me thin. Later I will eat three cookies to quell my hungry stomach, and feel even worse.
Slumps happen regardless of rain, of time, of work and rest. I am always working. I’m working on class assignments, I’m working on my friendships, I’m working on becoming gentler with myself. But on slump days there is also anger. I am angry because I cannot do enough – because I am not as talented, or beautiful, or smart as my classmates. I am not as nice as I want to be. I do not like myself in a slump; my personality, my soft stomach, my laugh.
When I am in a slump, it feels like a day destroys a lifetime’s work of loving myself.
The thing is, it doesn’t.
I am not writing about my slump because it is a cry for help. I am not scared of my slump. This is a bad day, and I am a person who feels bruised on the inside. But I am better than I was a year ago. That helps, the knowledge that I can be flawed and feel bad, but know that I have made changes to move forward. The nice thing about slumps is that they remind you that you are human, and imperfect.
“I will be okay,” I think as I eat my third cookie and wish that I didn’t have to go to class “Bad is ok.” Maybe tomorrow I will like my laugh again.
Today it is raining, and I am in a slump. I feel bad today, and that is alright.