After voluntarily admitting myself to the hospital and getting some meds, I’ve now slept a solid 8-9 hours per night. To say it’s been transformative would be the biggest undersell of all time.
The experience was terrifying but after living through it, I feel empowered. I’m clear about who I am, where I am, and where I want to go.
For someone looking in from the outside, though, I can only imagine how difficult it might be to wrap their head around the mess that is me. “What should I do? How can I help? Is he for real? Is this happening,” they might wonder.
Hell, even I frequently question the legitimacy of my experiences once they’re in my rearview mirror.
As a result, I often feel guilty; that I took time from someone else to worry about me. I’m a fraud, and that I’m just faking all of this. I’m a burden, weighing down others from achieving their greatness.
Speculation gets me nowhere, so I focus on what I’m feeling right now. May I use this empowerment to help enable others who are also seeking their revolutions.
Unraveling is never pretty but being unraveled seems worth the effort.
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