I'm older now.

I’m older now and I know not to crush all those around me; being sad is not a rite of passage, nor does it have to come hand in hand with destruction. Being sad can be a quiet thing, a blink in the dark, being sad can be a whisper – I’m older now, I can hear it without response. I’m older now; I know that love is sacred. It is. It’s small, too, and fragile, and doesn’t last forever. It ebbs and flows, a forceful and retreating tide. I’m older now; I know not to run when the swells alarm me. Time mends, I wait, for my heart beat to slow. I know that it’s okay to take time, to catch my breath, to reassess. Acting on the anxious adrenalin is like a moth drawn to a lamp, both entranced and trapped, faithful to the pursuit of doom, disguised as a righteous path. I’m older now, I know when I’m wrong – when I’m being childish, when I’m being hurtful, stubborn, rude. I know when it’s my mind that’s wrong, the dark thoughts that warp and twist, taking any sideways glance and turning into a despising glare, I know the difference between anxiety and reality. Most of the time, at least. I used to find something in everyone, to be insanely jealous of. How lucky they all seem, the beautiful people, without a worry or glimpse of stress let alone depression. I’m older now, I know that everyone has their battles – none greater or smaller than others. We cant pick our battles, but we can learn how to fight – cliché, perhaps, but I’m older now; I have no qualms in putting my faith in phrases or poems - there’s safety in their consistency. A book never changes, words locked in print like a landlocked country. Living in a mental state of constant flux, I’ve found what I need to ground me. Patti Smith. Anais Nin. Dylan Thomas. Bukowski. Vali Myers. Ginsberg. Battling mental health issues is not a fatal flaw, but a learned skill – I’m older now, I know not to despise the way anxiety seeks to trap me, but appreciate the beauty of my mind as it fights it.

Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; 
Though lovers be lost love shall not; 
And death shall have no dominion.
- Dylan Thomas

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

-Anais Nin

Remember, you promised me
I'm dying, I'm dying, please
I want to, I need to be
Under your skin