On days like these

I didn’t feel like getting out of bed today.

It’s been a while since I’ve experienced this and I’d forgotten it in the chemical bliss of serotonin re-uptake inhibitors. But a weekend of alcohol indulgence and failing to adhere to my usual prescription times, had interfered with the chemicals in my brain.

Coupled with writer’s block and meandering alone in my research development and I left this for last, but primarily, feeling unworthy of anything but a fleeting lust-filled evening that’s yet again amounted to nothing.

I’m my own worst enemy. The voices in my head keep telling me that I deserve this for being too generous with my thoughts and my body. Making the mistakes that mamma never warned me about.

I’m learning, slowly but surely. I’ve been playing with fire because I miss the burn. The burn of shame and self-harm.

Here’s to getting out of bed and enjoying the sun for the rest of the week.