This is the hardest thing I have ever done. As we slip down my face and chest and look into my Heart, I can feel the nausea in my stomach. Below is a journal entry I wrote in Summer 2017. In my presentation I will touch on my dilemma of not wanting proof of myself and why I’m so bad at journaling. This was incredibly difficult to type out, but, without further ado, here are my authentic and uncensored Words:
June 30th, 2017
I am an artist and I am starving and I am lazy and I am done. I am sick of love and I am sick of society. The only problem is that I am my very own enemy and that is the reason why am I am starving and lazy and sick. I am horrible to my body. I either purposefully stave myself or just eat sugar. Some say that the mind dies with the body and I don’t know if that is true. And I’m speaking solely from an atheist’s perspective. I mean there’s a distinct difference between the mind and the body and sometimes when the body isn’t doing well, the mind could be thriving whereas when the body is healthy and fantastic, the mind is dying. But there is still the phrase, “Happy body, happy mind.” And it totally makes sense but it’s not always true. Like the more sick I feel, the more poetic I am. Maybe it’s because my mind is more raw and crazed? I sound like a lunatic.
July 21st, 2017
I’ve been really bad with my medication lately, I either take too much or none at all and I feel like it’s really fucking up my brain. I’ve started to become very doubtful. Mostly, I’ve been doubtful with my abilities as a writer. I’m trying really hard to be my best self and never be less than who I really am. This may not sound difficult for someone who is neurotypical but for me it feels like lying. Like I am lying to myself. I question almost everything I feel, think, and do. It’s like the voice in my head has become an interrogator or a very nosy therapist. It’s like I have a devil’s advocate constantly interrogating me. I wish I was dead sometimes. Alas, I have a book to write and a boy to pursue so at least I have some hope left.
Now these were written a couple of months back and I’ve started a journey of self love and taking care of my body. Reading these have opened my eyes of how my past lifestyle was horrible and I pray and hope that no one is in this state where they feel like the only way for them to feel loved and pretty is to starve themselves because the motto “Happy body, happy mind” has helped me realize that the more I focus on how my body feels, the less I focus on the opinions of others and the negativity of the voice in my head. I’ve never felt happier. To tell the truth, love has been hard on me. Last year was a year where I not only suffered heartbreak because of rejection but I also suffered the heartbreak of not being able to love myself. There were times when I was confident in my body but I wasn’t confident in my mind and their were times where I was confident with my mind but not confident with my body. I was constantly bullying myself, mentally and physically. Fortunately, literature has been a huge remedy for me, especially writers such as Oscar Wilde. The more I focus on literature the more at peace I feel with the world and the more at peace I feel with myself. For example, Oscar Wilde has healed me in a way that I can’t explain. The way he takes so much pride in his unconventional ideologies and work inspires me to be just as unusual. Reading his works makes me a better reader, writer, and thinker. They have also been a huge support system for me to not take life so seriously and to take risks. He has also made me into a stronger woman. And I know it’s a little ironic for a young woman to look up to a man as her role model but it’s funny how he encourages my femininity- for he was just as effeminate.
I can definitely confirm that my current (and sadly infrequent) journal entries have brighter connotations weaved into the brilliancy and wit of Oscar.