Extremely rarely, I get to live a moment without feeling disphoric. It's not that I feel particularly good about myself, I just don't feel crushingly miserable (unlike usual).
Tonight was one of those moments, I wanted to write about it, hoping that, maybe, it could resonate with someone else's experiences.
This post isn't as well articulated as I would like it to be, maybe I'll repost a more clear explanation another time. But I don't want to overthink it and risk leaving it as a draft forever.
It's such an intense feeling, I struggle trying to fit it's magnitude into word without sounding hyperbolic.
It feel like I could fly. Briefly, my body isn't a shackle anymore, I feel like my soul and it's vessel align, energy overflow from everywhere within. It's a warmth that feel inextinguishable. And yet it's as fragile as water's surface tension, I know that something as mundane as seing a reflection could shatter this momentum. In those instants, I'm like a glass canon.
Those rare moments feels like i'm discovering my body for the first time, it's incredibly exciting. I feel like a child, I want to run, feel my lungs burning, fall and bleed, finally own my body... It's so refreshing and relieving to be able to simply exist without such a burden, to be -for once- connected with the world and peoples' around me.
The best thing about all of this is that I know that this feeling is just a fraction of how I'll actually feel once I'll get rid of what make me feel disphoric, once I'll finally be myself.
It's such a powerful motivation, It's a hope that make life worth living.
I feel like I could take down mountains with a spoon.