And then I cried to Bittersweet Symphony. Don’t judge.

Last night, after I tearfully posted the things I am trying to improve about myself, “Bittersweet Symphony” by The Verve came on Pandora.  I cried until I started laughing.  Because seriously, weeping silently to Bittersweet Symphony is such a hallmark of my late adolescence that it could have its own category on TV Tropes … if my life had all been televised.  After the laugh, I was still very keyed up, so I proceeded to watch United States of Tara on Netflix streaming until four in the morning.  I reached the end of the second episode of the first season, and as the screen returned to the menu, something clicked in my brain.  Clicked in a good way, not in a “oh no, she’s off her damn rocker again, y’all”.

I toastered up an Eggo waffle, then sat down at the desk and wrote this on some post it notes.

20120122-174006.jpg
Yeah. Don't.

Then I went to bed.

When I woke up this morning, I got up, got dressed, made a pot of tea and a batch of oatmeal scones.  I read stories and caught up with some old friends.  I caught up with myself a bit, too.  I haven’t felt the gnawing hunger in my gut that I’ve felt since last Monday.  I have been kinder in my thoughts and words.  I’ve been alone most of the day, but no lonely.  And despite a near-tragic lack of sleep from going to bed so into the quiet hours of the morning, I am not physically and mentally tired the way I’ve been for the past week.

Also, this was dinner, so that helped.

Ain't nothin' that some stir fried veggies and udon noodles can't fix, y'all.

 

Am I fixed?  No.  It’d be silly to think that one cathartic moment fixes the years of bad mental training I’ve forced upon myself.  But I’m trying.  And I feel very optimistic.  And a little silly.  In a good way.

By the way, if you haven’t seen United States of Tara yet, try to check it out.  The writing is superb, as is Toni Collette (duh.  Isn’t she always?)

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