For a day now, I've felt hungry. It's good to feel, good to eat and enjoy the food, good to taste. Last night, I slept well. I had my usual morning insomnia, waking up at five and not going back to sleep, but I went to bed at ten and didn't wake up during the night. I slept through the night. And the night before that, although not as perfectly. Yesterday, I played guitar. My voice became hoarse after only two songs (I've a bit of a sore throat anyway), but I played five or six. It was good, to play, to feel the strings again, to feel my voice filling my chest, to touch some kind of passion.

I've been empty for so long. There's been so much nothingness, so much lack. The only thing to fill the space between has been self-hate, self-rage, suicide thoughts, and desperation. The only passion I could get to was blood curling under the water. And that wasn't me; that was just a way to express what I couldn't show. The blood is still beautiful, but so is my guitar.

I haven't wanted to get better for a long time. That's not quite right. I haven't thought that I could get better for a long time. I haven't dared to hope for a long time. I haven't dared to care. And I don't know how far my dare extends right now. This isn't a revolution. Everything is not different. I am cautious and careful, guarding my hurt self zealously. But the newness... it's a gratefulness. Grateful for good friends who love me so much, and are so giving. Grateful for a therapist that actually cares, with her own self. Grateful that the Goddesses I love and feel are merciful, compassionate, gentle, loving things. My faith (for lack of a better word; I guess spirituality sounds better) has always been such a gentle, truthful, constant, lucky thing. My girlfriend mostly isn't able to believe in anything, because of how she is set up and because of how she's been hurt. And sometimes I get distant from it, sometimes I think it's stupid and nothing, sometimes, many many times, I cannot feel the presence at all. But every time i am able to come back to it, what a presence. I don't know how to articulate it. I am just glad that my gods are not harsh, like the Christian god is to some people, or the impression I get from a friend's Norse faith. I'm not following a warrior path. I'm not vindictive, I don't believe in revenge, or any violence. I love Gaia, who is my mother, and I love Kuan Yin, who is endless compassion, and I love Morgan le Fay, my sister, namesake, and inspiration.

I am not better. Things are not easy. I curl with anxiety many times during the day, I have moments where I don't know what to do and the world feels harsh and pointless. I get triggered and I spin in circles and I hide from myself and I yell at myself and I think how good it would have been if I had died three days ago. But I want to fan this spark. I'm ready to not be in hell, anymore.