A Quote by Hanif Kureishi
All the same, my depression and self-hatred, my desire to mutilate myself with broken bottles, my numbness and crying fits, my inability to get out of bed for days and days, the feeling of the world moving in to crush me, went on and on. But I knew I wouldn't go mad, even if that release, that letting-go, was a freedom I desired. I was waiting for myself to heal.
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Days I enjoy are days when nothing happens, When I have no engagements written on my block, When no one comes to disturb my inward peace, When no one comes to take me away from myself And turn me into a patchwork, a jig-saw puzzle, A broken mirror that once gave a whole reflection, Being so contrived that it takes too long a time To get myself back to myself when they have gone.
There is a curious comfort in letting go. After the agony, letting go brings numbness, and after the numbness, clarity. As if I can see the world for the first time, and my place in it, independent of you, a whole vista of what may be. Even if it is not grand or inspiring, it is real and solid, unlike the fantasy I've built around you. I will do this.
I will triumph over you.
There are some days that I have to remind myself, and I have to give myself affirmations, and I have to go to yoga or do something nice for myself. I get nervous about putting myself out there, but I want to encourage others to use their voices, too.
Most days, I'm out there, I'm enjoying what I'm doing. I love my job, I love my life, some days I get up, I'm sore, I'm on the edge of getting sick, I'm like, just beat up, and I don't want to go out. I just kind of make myself go out there and do it.
Some days you're depressed, some days you're happy, some days you're broken hearted. People need music for therapy, to heal them or speak for them when they can't describe how they're feeling.
I'm thankful that when I go to bed at night, that I have been myself that day. And, I have been myself all the days before that.
It's been said of me that I must get out of bed every morning and go cartwheeling down the road. Of course it's not true. There certainly was a time in my 20s when I wanted a bit of freedom, and I found that difficult, but if I'm ever having a time when I'm feeling sorry for myself, something always jolts me back.
As for my schedule, I tend to go to bed at the same time every night and get up at the same time every morning, and I try to be as productive as possible. Some days, I can devote to one specific thing. Other days, it's a catch-all day.
It's depression. You can't put it into words. You get stuck and time passes by. I'm stood there on the edge of a cliff, can't go back and can't go forward. Days go by. I'm still in the same place. Everyone else's life goes on, but you're stuck. You try and try and try and I don't know how, but you came out of it eventually.
I have all but killed myself for Photography. My passion for it is greater than ever. It's forty years that I have fought its fight... I am not fighting to make a 'name' for myself. Maybe you have some feeling for what the fight is for. It's a world's fight... All that's born of spirit seems mad in these days of materialism run riot.
If I break my finger, I go to accident and emergency. If I have a cold, I go to the pharmacy. If I'm broken inside, where do I go? So, to help myself heal, I felt the best way to do this would be to talk, to share and to better understand what it is that I have.
You are not a helpless victim of your own thoughts, but rather a master of your mind. What do you need to let go of? Take a deep breath, relax, and say to yourself, 'I am willing to let go. I release. I let go. I release all tension. I release all fear. I release all anger. I release all guilt. I release all sadness. I let go of all old limitations. I let go, and I am at peace. I am at peace with myself. I am at peace with the process of life. I am safe.'
I'm trapped inside of me and I don't go out at all. I go to bed at eight o'clock at night. I never go out during the week. I'm in psychotherapy four days a week, pretty heavy commitment to it.
Running is a gift I give myself almost daily. Even at days when everything seems to go wrong, I treat myself on the satisfaction of a lap of 30 to 40 minutes.
Like a lot of overcommitted, overworked Americans, I do not have much time to exercise. Plain and simple. Instead of merely accepting this sad fact, I remind myself of it constantly, so that on the 95 percent of days I know I won't make it to the gym, I remember to go out of my way to get my body moving.
But after a few minutes of convincing myself that I really wanted to go - telling myself that I love skating and that my coach is there waiting for me - I would get up and go. And my mother would always get up and eat breakfast with me!
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