Here I am, sat so leisurely, so relaxed, drifting in and along to the smooth background music in a funky hipster vibe café in the south of Ireland. As I nibble at a sweet homemade rhubarb bun, washed down with a silky milky coffee, settled into pretty stratums of caffeine rich liquids of different density, I realise I am happy for the first time in weeks. I am doing everything my heart desires today. I took the 2 hour train ride down here to escape the stress of Dublin, of work, of life, hug my Mother and feel her nurturing impression. A brief respite.
In this veil of contentedness requires me to listen to the WISEMIND voice in my mind that tells me that this internship is just too much for me right now. I am only weeks out of my DBT group; I am still a DBT novice, an apprentice of life. Yet despite all that I am stuffing down my true emotions and all I know is right for me by working 40 hours a week in an internship I am not able for, I can’t manage life and work that much without running myself into the ground. I have no time for writing, my very own creative Prozac. Without my nurturing my creative side, I may as not be taking my medication because, Writing, drawing, taking photos have been an integral part of my recovery.
I have a lot of thinking to do this weekend, but for now I am going back to riding the wave of this emotion of contentedness as I know this too shall pass and the next one might not be so pleasant.
