This week has been surprisingly good.

I have recently reconnected this week with a great friend, and it’s been so so so nice to catch up and reunite.

It feels good, having a friend.

A good friend.

A real friend, someone I can talk to about shit and who doesn’t judge me for it.

And someone who can share what they’re going through with me too – the ups and downs and all arounds, without judgements.

We hadn’t talked in almost twenty years thanks to my mental illness and maladaptive behaviors in the past.

I was a horrible person back then.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit much but I haven’t been able to be a good friend in my past.

I was floored (in a great way) when she messaged me.

So there was something great that came out of my facebook getting hacked.

I would’ve never seen the instagram message if my facebook hadn’t craped out on me.

Just when I think all is lost, and life is bullshit, something good happens like this.

And it makes me happy.

Sincerely happy.

Reuniting with her has been so refreshing and wonderful.

I’ve had this foreign feeling all week and it’s like I’m content or something.

Because I have to remind myself that the goal in my recovery is not happiness.

I heard that on another Inside Bipolar podcast and they’re on to something with it. 

The goal is to be content, not happy.

To not actively hate myself, and my life, and everything else.

To be okay with things, with who I am now.

To know I’m resilient enough to power through.

And I don’t know if I’ve ever had these feelings ever, till this week.

Not with this level of clarity, not till now.

The reuniting has made me see that I’m better than my romanticizing-the-past self.

That I was a terrible person in my past and I’m not that same person anymore.

I’m not randomly explosive anymore.

I’m not a hot fucking mess anymore.

(though some days, it feels like I am still)

I don’t really know who I am anymore, and it’s been a very alienating feeling the past couple years or so.

Especially since I scared everyone away with my psychosis episodes.

But I feel like the fire in me has sparked back up.

Like the flames are licking my sense of self again.

I’ve been working on myself so much that it’s hard to find others with this level of clarity and work.

It’s hard to put myself out there, but I got on a couple of dating apps this week.

As much as it scares me, and as much as I don’t really think I’m ready to put myself out there like that, I’m doing it anyway.

Sometimes the best things for us aren’t comfortable.

Sometimes all I need to do is be brave.

There are so many things in my past that I look back on and get so frustrated with myself and my actions.

I was irrational.

Unpredictable.

And volatile.

I had a short and confusing fuse that was constantly lit.

It was a bigger flame than just a pilot light, it was much more destructive while waiting for fuel.

And I’m not that person anymore.

I’m not that confused, rage filled person anymore.

I deserve to be content, to be alive.

I don’t deserve what I’ve been through, but it did make me the strong and valiant person that I am today.

So I decided to put myself out there.

I’ve been more honest on my dating profiles than I ever have been.

I’m not going to hide myself anymore.

And if that scares someone away, they won’t get me anyway so it’s a good thing that they don’t message me..

Like I said a few entries back, my mask has disintegrated and is no longer available for use.

So I either make a new one, or let it go.

And I think I’m going to let it go.

It’s not worth the replication.

My mask only got me in trouble and made me hide what I was going through for decades because I couldn’t understand what was actually happening.

I couldn’t separate myself from my mental illness.

And I can’t go back there now.

I refuse to go back to that place.

(a few hours later) I have had such a foreign feeling this week, a foreign emotion pop up.

It’s like I don’t know what this almost soothing feeling is.

I’m not used to this.

Even putting myself out there on the dating apps, I’ve been feeling liberated because I know who I am this time (to an extent).

I’m aware of myself and my actions and my reactions to a situation now.

I can see what I’m doing now, how I feel, and how that applies to the situation.

Very unlike the last forty-ish years of my life.

Decades have flown by me and I have no recollection of them.

And it honestly gives me the most empty feeling if I think about it for too long.

And then I think about how many good people could be in my life now.

How I have space for better friends and healthier people in my life.

How I do deserve to be content, and dare I say happy?

And I’m grateful for that feeling today.

And I know, this feeling may not last, but I know it’s possible now.

Which is huge.

Every month I have these growth spurts.

Not physically, but mentally, emotionally, I’ve been overflowing with understanding and craving friendship.

I don’t talk about it much because it hurts.

Most of the people in my life have left me to deal with my actions by myself.

And I get it.

I do.

If you think it was bad dealing with me, how miserable do you think I was being me.

Very miserable and confused. 

But I’m gaining clarity every day, and I’m grateful for friends today.

I’m grateful to be reunited.

– Keren