“what progress, you ask, have i made? i have begun to be a friend to myself.”
it loses something in the defining. it sanitizes the binge and downplays it; it’s a tidy description for something that is panicked, frantic, violent, destructive, and soul destroying.
“avoid anxious thoughts. if you want to make progress, stop feeling anxious about things.” thanks, tips. if i could avoid anxious feelings, i wouldn’t be in this mess.
don’t let your actions cause harm. it’s elegantly practical. i wonder why it’s such a struggle to apply this rule to ourselves?
my depression is singular. it’s hearing only one note. tasting only one flavour. seeing only one colour. it overwhelms everything and turns the experience of life into monochrome rather than a palette of complexities and nuances.