what is progress?

So, I forgot writing yesterday. I’ll stop counting the days in the title, it’s nonsense to me.

For now, I should mention that I’ve started a program to improve my habits. It’s basically an app for android, but it is really helping me. The point of this app, for me, is that it shows how much you have accomplished. If you set a very very simple goal, you might not see how much you have done that because it was something “too smal”. So, if you do it for 2 weeks, it might seem that you haven’t done even for 5 days (bc it is something small). The point of the program is: keep taking babysteps. That’s how you change. Anyways, when I saw that I had done my first goal for 2 weeks I felt like I could do it. And now, I’m improving.

Anyways, I did good yesterday. It was a better day than the day before. It was not even close of what I was thinking, but I’m getting used to it in life. I mean, the idea that nothing is like we thought it would be. But only for being better than Wednesday, I am happy. I could take a nice breakfast, I studied what I needed to. I was still sleeping a lot, but I could do some things.

Today, my progress in acquiring new habits was pretty good. I even danced in the morning! I exercised, in the morning!!!!! That is totally new for me. I ALWAYS wanted to do that. But I never could. Idk why. By the end of the breakfast I was still ok. But then my mom started acting like my annoying mom. As usual. And that made me feel bad. I was going to help her in her job, and she kept sending me “indirect attakcs” saying that I was doing nothing to help her and my family. Furthermore, she was really upset only for going to her job.

Anyways, I went to help her, and the job itself was ok.

What is making me write here tonight is my mental disorder. First of all, I hate it. I hate being like this. I hate being sick. I tought I would be such a spetacular woman, who was awesome in her job, studies and relationships. For now, I only feel sick. I felt bad all day today. The pills I take for depression and anxiety have too many side effects. In addition, I am not “mental disorder free” because of them. They don’t take away all my pain. They just keep me away from crying crisis and suicide. To tell the truth, I also don’t feel sad.

I feel something inexplicable. The body part (physiological speaking) is like: shortness of breath, cardiac arrythmia, headache, seasickness, lack of appetite. For now, I’m wheighing 43 kilos (which is like, 94 pounds). I’m a 21 year old female. I am 64 inches in height. I’m not only sick, I look sick. I don’t feel like fighting against it. I only wish it goes away. My biggest fear? That it doesn’t.

Psychological speaking, I don’t feel able to do almost anything. As I’m always feeling sick, I just want to sleep all the time. I also feel anxious. All the time. Whether I have a reason or not. And even when I know, I have NO REASON AT ALL, I keep anxious. I keepinable to focus, to react to a bunch of situations. I feel inable to live. To be truly happy.

I will try to paint my nails and watch Grey’s Anatomy peacefully.
I hope tomorrow will be better.


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