Monsoon storms show up out of nowhere. One minute it is sunny and the next it’s pouring rain, wind tearing up backyards, lightening strikes and thunder roars.

It was a sunny day. Recognizing that I’m gaining distance from hell (or, eating disorder and depression) is affording an optimism and hope that rarely showed up in the last couple years. That feels pretty good. It feels relieving and bright and promising.

But I just took a dive. A monsoon storm showed up out of nowhere, threw everything into chaos, and I suddenly feel like I have to hide and sit in shame and guilt and regret. I suddenly feel showered in self-hate — that’s unmatched by even the best self-haters.

When I was little I loved to sink to the bottom of the pool. I used to hold my breath as long as I could, wondering what it would feel like to drown.

Drowning feels like overwhelming waves; unrelenting, never-ending waves.

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