#that crazy flame still dances. and ik that bc from time to time i still feel the heat against the sides of the glass. maybe it's a lack of
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you know what? i'm gonna say it. i miss being seventeen. not for the "glory days," bc they weren't, by a country mile lol. if i had glory days i'd say they were in 2020. but i miss the electricity, the constant undercurrent of euphoria and deep plunging black. i miss the fight i had. i was literally known for being scrappy. i was self-destructive and coping poorly, but goddamn if i didn't burn bright and long. it took me until my twenties to finally start to fizzle out. does the candle with its wax melted down to the base of its glass cage miss when the wick was lit?
#she bork#it's not even that i'm tired of fighting necessarily. clearly. if i was i wouldn't miss it. i think i miss being ABLE to fight. now i just#don't feel like i have the grit i used to have. i'm not sure if it's bc i'm healthier mentally or bc my energy has just dissipated over time#but i miss taking hit after hit (metaphorically) and wiping the blood from my lip and standing again and raising my fists. i don't do that#anymore. and again even if it's bc i'm healthier i'm not sure it's a good thing that that stubbornness and grit is gone. is it automatically#better to seek the path of least resistance? i'm not sure.#maybe it's learned helplessness? idk i mean logically one person can only suffer so much before they learn it's better not to fight or that#fighting isn't even always possible. but i've always struggled. i've always gone head-first into these things and white-knuckled it and made#it through even if only w self-violence (which was often remarked upon as self-discipline). now i feel like i just flounder and flop and cry#like a fish w a wailing voice on the dock as it loses its breath. i really do think it's partially bc i'm sane now but somewhere inside me#that crazy flame still dances. and ik that bc from time to time i still feel the heat against the sides of the glass. maybe it's a lack of#confidence. maybe it's that ik now that it's impossible to hate yourself into a different better shape (both physically and mentally). but#it was so exciting to try. if i'm miserable regardless i'd at least rather be having fun.#furthermore it could also be that my chaos is no longer external. a lot of what i have going on is internal/physical and it's a daily thing.#fighting daily is a lot harder than fighting through my shitty relationship or that one season of volleyball that destroyed me mentally lol#(ik that sounds ridiculous but it was pretty fucking bad). i'm no longer fighting against other people or external circumstances that i feel#a need to prove myself against. i'm fighting my own body which has proven a tougher match than anticipated. bc how can i? i live here. i#cannot will my body to function. i can swim against the currents of my illness and often do. but that's less glamorous than punching walls#and running for miles like i used to. i want to break a hand. i want to run three miles in half an hour. i want to doll myself up for a#dance and spend the whole night driving w the windows down strung out on a cocktail of cortisol and dopamine. i want to live in the eye of#the hurricane again. and i never will. and it's good but i think it's made me soft.
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