I think I'd be remiss in understating the effect this progress has been having on my mental health. My twenties have been a long road of depression with a second helping of anxiety. I have been no stranger to panic attacks and have had many sleepless night due to my imagination trying to crumble the sand castle walls I have put up around my psyche. I the waves that wore me down were called time, pain and panic.
Lately I have noticed such a change, I'm living life with a big goofy smile glued to my face and I'd like to call it adorable so I will. I feel good, I am not shying away from the man in the mirror and every step takes me further away from being the old Eli. I don't actually have too much of a problem with who he was, he'd learnt kindness and quiet wisdom over the last couple of years and matured into someone for more comfortable in his own skin... but damn was he tired.
I'd been rather run down with illness, both in the body and the soul. There was like this black wound on me that made everything hard. Peculiarly it was easiest to care for others during this time, I'd seek anyway to distract myself from addressing what needed to be done. I'd distract myself with entertainment, numb myself with food and date outrageous people (I'm only willing to give up two of those things!!).
There has been some lasting damage from my mental health or lack of it. I've missed out on some very fun celebrations or life events due to being so uncomfortable in that world other people seem to drift through seemingly effortlessly, I'd always have to offer a flimsy excuse or risk letting them in on my current state.
People know though, they can often tell when you aren't coping... that is the worst sometimes. I had a friend who every time we'd hang out would ask me if I was going ok and while I appreciated the fact that he cared it reminded me that the state of my sand castle walls needed repair. I wasn't ready to let anyone in, even if he was ready to help me a year and a half before I was ready to help myself.
Life as a self proclaimed Neurotic Aquatic has been much better, I'm so much less lonely, depressed or self destructive. Any hour swimming is an hour spent not drifting backwards to bad habits. Any hour swimming is spent with the conversation of a swimming buddy or the sweet tunes of those bands that fill me with fuel to dance like an idiot underwater.
As I catch my breath while gently floating in the water I have to wonder to myself one single question, "Is what happy feels like?"
MoonLite
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