Tuesday, August 31st, 2021


Every time I start bleeding internally again (with my autoimmune disorder) there’s always a part of me, now, that immediately launches into “impending doom”. I think some of that is from being continually hospitalized in 2015-2018, and not knowing, back then, if I would be able to eat without a tube ever again. And having regained my health, and ability to eat, there’s this balance of terror and grace. And so much of life is holding both of those truths simultaneously without pitting them against each other. Yes, this is scary and difficult, and also yes, I’ve been extended more time and grace than most (people with similar chronic disorders). Maybe that’s what Rilke meant by “For beauty is nothing, but the beginning of terror, which we still are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying.”

Reposted from https://lies.tumblr.com/post/661054508847300608.