"Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves." (Matthew 7:15)
"We all, we all, we all have sorry hearts..." - Blue October/5591
Pieces of my thoughts:
You know how if you're having a nightmare and when you first wake up it still feels real and your heart's beating fast and you have to calm yourself down and tell yourself that it was just a dream? And maybe you're afraid to go back to sleep right away because you might dream about it again?
That's how anxiety is, except you're awake. And sometimes you can't calm yourself back down, no matter how much you tell yourself it's not real. You know rationally that it's not actually happening but your brain won't let you believe it. It keeps circling back to: "Oh my God, it's going to happen, it's going to happen." You FEEL it.
Obsessive thoughts.
I don't like them. Mostly I get the anxiety where I feel everything. Where everything hurts, physically. But for the past year I've had the thoughts too. Stark fear. I don't like it. Is it because I've been off medication for more than a year? Or because of all the dating mishaps, all the broken pieces I had to put back together in the past year? Or because I had something very real to lose...that I was afraid to lose...that I did lose. Holding on doesn't keep someone who wants to go away. Love means nothing. Words mean nothing. And nothing again.
It was a combination of things, I suppose. It doesn't matter. This is my life, I have to live it. This is reality, I have to deal with it.
I got past the worst of it. I was ready to move on, open that new door. And the one behind me opened again. He came out. He came back to me as the man I prayed for him to become. He was better. I actually started to believe...
But I was wrong. A wolf in sheep's clothing? Coming back as everything I ever wanted? Or maybe I was meant to see it, meant to hear the loving words, meant to get the answers I sought all of those empty months. And meant to process through my own feelings, the unresolved things. And the things I already knew. I didn't go back...but I wanted to. I would have. I needed him to prove that he really was that man, that things changed. I needed him to be there for me this time. I really needed him to be there. But he disappeared. It's what he does. I know this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let myself open up again. He's my weakness...and I love him. But I respect myself too much to get back into a situation that will hurt me...again. I don't know why this happened, why he came back if he had no intention of staying. If he couldn't make an effort for more than a few days. Did he feel rejected because I didn't jump at the chance to be with him and fall in line with what he wanted? Is that what all these other little girls did? That's not me. I needed time. I was honest. Did it matter? Does it matter now? What is the point of this?
I didn't need extra stress, not now. He came back the week before my surgery. I had so much to deal with already. Why would he put me through that when he knew? And treat me the way he did before, when he said he was wrong to do that before.
I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of this. I'm so tired. Tired of men, tired of false hope, tired of blood, tired of pain, tired of being tired and afraid. I'm afraid. I don't know what's in the future. Will I ever have kids? Will I ever have a stable life? Will the good things ever stay?
Please let the good things stay. Please help me. Please give me a reason.
I'm so tired of feeling sick and in pain every day. I didn't post anything (on FB) about my surgery two weeks ago because I didn't want to explain or go into details. The thought of it brought me terror and I barely talked about it. Two months of fear before it. For the reason and the act. The day of was scary and overwhelming and I had a panic attack (I don't like needles). I thought I was healing afterward but it's apparently going to take a lot of time. I barely have the strength to do anything at all and I'm too vulnerable and my mind feels broken. Abandonment issues. My anxiety makes me worry about everyone else to the extreme, every day. It's too much inside. I'm so tired of all of these hits and tests and trials and heartbreaks. Can I be done now?
I am grateful for things. My family and friends who have helped me and accommodated me. The fact that I can take off work on the worst days and stay in bed and rest. That there's someone who can take over for me. I'm grateful for health insurance. I just looked up the amount of the bills for the checkups and lab tests and surgery procedure...it was in the thousands. I'm grateful for music...Small Town Titans, Blue October, so many others. Ashleigh Stone, who inspired me. Tufstrings (Ryan D.)'s album, which has been the soundtrack of my nights. "PRN" was what got me through and out of that panic attack. I'm very visual...I could picture the notes and rhythms, see him "stomp" the way he did at the shows. It worked. Music saves me, every day.
I was ready to move on, ready to start down a different path. Maybe I wasn't meant to go that way. Maybe that's why this all happened. I don't know. I don't understand. More questions, less answers. Or maybe I'm not asking the right questions...
Maybe I'm where I'm supposed to be. I do know that the point of this health matter was to find it early and remove the affected area before it got worse. I know it was necessary.
Why did he come back? So that I could know that I was loved? That I wasn't wrong - everything I believed before, my faith, was true? Ok, I know it now. Maybe he'll come back...he always comes back. Maybe we all just need more time. God needs more time to work. I need time to heal. He needs? Time to become ready? For what I need? It's possible for him to become that man. I know it. I still believe in him. But I know what I deserve and I can't accept less.
I don't know where I am or what I want. I know who I am but I'm not that person right now. I'm not at my best. This goes beyond my "ugly side" but that's there too. Not much of a game face lately. Depression comes and goes.
My dog is here...I love her so much. She's a handful and has worse anxiety issues than me. But she's here. I'm grateful for the kids, my niece and nephew. I miss them. That was my routine, taking care of them. And I can't handle it right now. I miss Carter too.
I'm tired. But can't sleep. I feel lost and confused. I want things to be right. Good things to stay. Better days. Time passes.
And maybe time forgets. (Deep Ella song)
I'm second-guessing myself, having doubts. But writing helps.
Praying for better days ahead. And the strength to do what needs to be done.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
A new year, starting now...
Written on June 23, 2015:
Today's my 37th birthday. Most people don't know how old I am because I look younger than I am. I always have. I didn't really realize it until I was 13 and someone thought I was 10 years old. Not what someone just starting their teenage years wants to hear. My most important young milestones were marred by incorrect assumptions and careless attitudes by people who seemed eager to tell me just what they thought of me: when I was 16, I looked like "a little kid". Not very sweet. On my 18th birthday celebration, someone I just met said she thought I was 12. Really? That felt cruel at the time. Also the fact that guys my age thought the same, that I was young and boring and not worth the time. Any time throughout the past 2 decades that I told anyone my age, they gave me "that look" and either didn't believe me or thought something was wrong with me. So, birthdays (and my age, specifically) have not been something I talk about or look forward to. I'm an introvert, so all the attention is hard to handle as well. And my dog, Lazy, died on my 33rd birthday, so that's another reason to feel some dread at the approach. Bad memories.
But today, I had an epiphany: why not look at it as a new year, a new start this time. People always say to have a great year, because a birthday is a mark of another year of life. I never really looked at it as a New Year type of thing though. But why not? The first 6 months of this year have been terrible, heartbreaking. So why can't the next 6 months be better...a new chapter, a new year. I can look at it that way.
Today's my 37th birthday. Most people don't know how old I am because I look younger than I am. I always have. I didn't really realize it until I was 13 and someone thought I was 10 years old. Not what someone just starting their teenage years wants to hear. My most important young milestones were marred by incorrect assumptions and careless attitudes by people who seemed eager to tell me just what they thought of me: when I was 16, I looked like "a little kid". Not very sweet. On my 18th birthday celebration, someone I just met said she thought I was 12. Really? That felt cruel at the time. Also the fact that guys my age thought the same, that I was young and boring and not worth the time. Any time throughout the past 2 decades that I told anyone my age, they gave me "that look" and either didn't believe me or thought something was wrong with me. So, birthdays (and my age, specifically) have not been something I talk about or look forward to. I'm an introvert, so all the attention is hard to handle as well. And my dog, Lazy, died on my 33rd birthday, so that's another reason to feel some dread at the approach. Bad memories.
But today, I had an epiphany: why not look at it as a new year, a new start this time. People always say to have a great year, because a birthday is a mark of another year of life. I never really looked at it as a New Year type of thing though. But why not? The first 6 months of this year have been terrible, heartbreaking. So why can't the next 6 months be better...a new chapter, a new year. I can look at it that way.
Saturday, May 23, 2015
It's not Black or White to me
Do people who think they know me, actually know me?
Thinking...about the conversation with my Aunt Star (the year before she died?), where we discussed my hesitation to the idea of dating white guys. Not for lack of attraction or connection or anything else, but because of the way I grew up - the town, the school, the cliques and racist undertones of everything. Feeling like an outsider, always different. I didn't want to deal with more of that. Likely, racism against me from the other person's family and friends or judgment from everyone else, society. I just wanted to avoid the possibility of it happening. I was done with that stuff. I didn't live there anymore, but those fears followed me, even in the land of diversity and acceptance. All types of guys (especially Black) talked to me in KOP. But I took a chance, 2 years after she died, and asked a guy out, a white guy at work. It was not a good relationship, but had nothing to do with race, just our personalities clashing.
Would she be proud of me? For trying and being more open? For standing up for myself at that job, even though I got reprimanded? I think so. She was strong.
I talked to different races over the years, tried to date when I had a connection. So many false starts. And moving back to here, the town where I grew up...away from the diversity of Philly. Here...you're expected to be a certain way. And I never fit in. In school times, anyway. But I don't care now.
So, ten years (moved away and back) of being "single" and finally I have a romantic relationship again? With an older white guy. Then a younger white guy. Black guys around here don't seem interested enough to make a move. And the 2 that did (in 2012), weren't from around here anyway. But, it didn't work out. I can't be made to feel bad about myself...that won't make me date you. And you can't talk bad about my family, all the races and skin colors, the kids. No. We are who we are. It was a surprise that the white guys in this area were so interested in me. Never was an option in the past. Maybe it became like a victory to me...I was finally beautiful to them. Not just the shy little black girl. So why not take what was offered? If I feel it, I feel it.
People think they know me. My "preference"? Based on recent years. No, that's not it. I prefer color. I'm attracted to contrast of skin and hair with interesting features. Dark hair and dark eyes. Ethnic-looking. Tall. I'd rather have a big guy than someone too thin. But have I dated a guy with all that? Not really. I'm not searching for some ideal person. Looks aren't anything. Personality, humor, intelligence...those qualities matter. Race, religion, job...it doesn't determine how I feel about someone. And what I feel is what determines who you are to me. If I love you...
But people don't ask, they don't notice. They don't look back and follow the whole story of me. They look at one chapter, what they think it means, what it means to them. I see it. No one said it yet. This time. But I see it. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe no one even cares anymore. I'm trying not to care.
Do you know what it means to me? I follow my heart. I do what I feel is right for me at the time. If it's this person, then it's this person. If I don't feel a connection with someone, then I'm not going to do it, I won't settle. I've given too many chances because someone was "nice" and I didn't see a reason not to date them, or try. But the feelings don't materialize. It's just not there. I'm honest about my feelings. I won't let anyone pressure me. But I'm not cruel, I don't play games and dump people. I don't like to hurt anyone. Because I hurt so much.
I try. I keep trying. But...I think I can't right now. I'm not whole. And my heart isn't my own, not yet. But I know I need to make changes. Also, not let the bitterness and anger in. Not become that person. It's in me. But I won't become that.
My first boyfriend...that beautiful Black man with the perfect smile and best laugh. The southern accent. My music man. He was one of the nicest and classiest people I've ever met. Maybe no one can compare to that. I saw a future with him. Didn't happen, we were too young and he didn't want to get serious. Faded away. He went back home. It was hard for me. Took 3 years to breathe again, try again. I did. But I don't even remember dates back then, who, when.
So much hope. For that person who would want what I wanted and understand me. I don't think I found anyone like that, until this last time. He wasn't white...he didn't identify as white, he didn't sound white, he wasn't from this country, his "family" was black, his friends. But everyone who sees the photos or met him will say white. It doesn't matter. And yes, he was totally gorgeous. It was nice to have that for once - the wild attraction, the butterflies when I looked at him. But his humor outshone it all. He changed me, inspired me, helped me see that future again, so much more this time. I was loved. I thought my time had come. Finally, a child? A husband? All the trying, the pain, the heartbreaks, led to this. He erased it all, and every man who came before. They didn't matter. He was my Joseph. But...that all went away too. It wasn't my time, he wasn't the man. Was he? I was so sure. I believed. My faith was strong. I wasn't wrong. I did everything I was meant to do. But. He's gone. I wasn't the one for him, in the end. So short of a time. I wasn't ready. I wasn't done. But.
Keep moving forward. Am I? I'm healing, the days are getting better. But still, it hurts.
Bleed Out. That was my life for too long. Months that felt like years. The highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I understand so much more. I lived so much in a short period of time. I learned so much. A different world.
If he listened to Blue October...if he understood what Justin had been through and has become now, would it help him? There are so many similarities with their lives and behaviors. I believed in him. I still believe in him. And I know it's possible...the kind of man he can be. The kind of life he could have. I tried to give it to him. Show him my world. Maybe it was too much, not right, not time. I don't know. But I made him happy. I helped him when he was in need. He loved talking to me, said he was blessed to have me. Someone else said I was a gift. I have all of that in my heart. I did that, I was that. Those are good things.
I'll be ok. I'm always ok, right? Even when I'm not. I want to get on the right path again. Focus, not keep thinking and dwelling on this and looking at other people's paths. I'm trying to make it all make sense in my head so my heart can cope with it. It doesn't yet.
I can't trust myself yet. I'm distant from others. Guarding my heart. Distrustful of happiness. It'll take time. I'm wounded and vulnerable and low on patience. It'll take time.
Fears and worries, self-sabotage. Trying not to let them in. It's hard though, especially when anxiety kicks in. But, that's the fight. I fight.
Do you know me yet?
Thinking...about the conversation with my Aunt Star (the year before she died?), where we discussed my hesitation to the idea of dating white guys. Not for lack of attraction or connection or anything else, but because of the way I grew up - the town, the school, the cliques and racist undertones of everything. Feeling like an outsider, always different. I didn't want to deal with more of that. Likely, racism against me from the other person's family and friends or judgment from everyone else, society. I just wanted to avoid the possibility of it happening. I was done with that stuff. I didn't live there anymore, but those fears followed me, even in the land of diversity and acceptance. All types of guys (especially Black) talked to me in KOP. But I took a chance, 2 years after she died, and asked a guy out, a white guy at work. It was not a good relationship, but had nothing to do with race, just our personalities clashing.
Would she be proud of me? For trying and being more open? For standing up for myself at that job, even though I got reprimanded? I think so. She was strong.
I talked to different races over the years, tried to date when I had a connection. So many false starts. And moving back to here, the town where I grew up...away from the diversity of Philly. Here...you're expected to be a certain way. And I never fit in. In school times, anyway. But I don't care now.
So, ten years (moved away and back) of being "single" and finally I have a romantic relationship again? With an older white guy. Then a younger white guy. Black guys around here don't seem interested enough to make a move. And the 2 that did (in 2012), weren't from around here anyway. But, it didn't work out. I can't be made to feel bad about myself...that won't make me date you. And you can't talk bad about my family, all the races and skin colors, the kids. No. We are who we are. It was a surprise that the white guys in this area were so interested in me. Never was an option in the past. Maybe it became like a victory to me...I was finally beautiful to them. Not just the shy little black girl. So why not take what was offered? If I feel it, I feel it.
People think they know me. My "preference"? Based on recent years. No, that's not it. I prefer color. I'm attracted to contrast of skin and hair with interesting features. Dark hair and dark eyes. Ethnic-looking. Tall. I'd rather have a big guy than someone too thin. But have I dated a guy with all that? Not really. I'm not searching for some ideal person. Looks aren't anything. Personality, humor, intelligence...those qualities matter. Race, religion, job...it doesn't determine how I feel about someone. And what I feel is what determines who you are to me. If I love you...
But people don't ask, they don't notice. They don't look back and follow the whole story of me. They look at one chapter, what they think it means, what it means to them. I see it. No one said it yet. This time. But I see it. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe no one even cares anymore. I'm trying not to care.
Do you know what it means to me? I follow my heart. I do what I feel is right for me at the time. If it's this person, then it's this person. If I don't feel a connection with someone, then I'm not going to do it, I won't settle. I've given too many chances because someone was "nice" and I didn't see a reason not to date them, or try. But the feelings don't materialize. It's just not there. I'm honest about my feelings. I won't let anyone pressure me. But I'm not cruel, I don't play games and dump people. I don't like to hurt anyone. Because I hurt so much.
I try. I keep trying. But...I think I can't right now. I'm not whole. And my heart isn't my own, not yet. But I know I need to make changes. Also, not let the bitterness and anger in. Not become that person. It's in me. But I won't become that.
My first boyfriend...that beautiful Black man with the perfect smile and best laugh. The southern accent. My music man. He was one of the nicest and classiest people I've ever met. Maybe no one can compare to that. I saw a future with him. Didn't happen, we were too young and he didn't want to get serious. Faded away. He went back home. It was hard for me. Took 3 years to breathe again, try again. I did. But I don't even remember dates back then, who, when.
So much hope. For that person who would want what I wanted and understand me. I don't think I found anyone like that, until this last time. He wasn't white...he didn't identify as white, he didn't sound white, he wasn't from this country, his "family" was black, his friends. But everyone who sees the photos or met him will say white. It doesn't matter. And yes, he was totally gorgeous. It was nice to have that for once - the wild attraction, the butterflies when I looked at him. But his humor outshone it all. He changed me, inspired me, helped me see that future again, so much more this time. I was loved. I thought my time had come. Finally, a child? A husband? All the trying, the pain, the heartbreaks, led to this. He erased it all, and every man who came before. They didn't matter. He was my Joseph. But...that all went away too. It wasn't my time, he wasn't the man. Was he? I was so sure. I believed. My faith was strong. I wasn't wrong. I did everything I was meant to do. But. He's gone. I wasn't the one for him, in the end. So short of a time. I wasn't ready. I wasn't done. But.
Keep moving forward. Am I? I'm healing, the days are getting better. But still, it hurts.
Bleed Out. That was my life for too long. Months that felt like years. The highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I understand so much more. I lived so much in a short period of time. I learned so much. A different world.
If he listened to Blue October...if he understood what Justin had been through and has become now, would it help him? There are so many similarities with their lives and behaviors. I believed in him. I still believe in him. And I know it's possible...the kind of man he can be. The kind of life he could have. I tried to give it to him. Show him my world. Maybe it was too much, not right, not time. I don't know. But I made him happy. I helped him when he was in need. He loved talking to me, said he was blessed to have me. Someone else said I was a gift. I have all of that in my heart. I did that, I was that. Those are good things.
I'll be ok. I'm always ok, right? Even when I'm not. I want to get on the right path again. Focus, not keep thinking and dwelling on this and looking at other people's paths. I'm trying to make it all make sense in my head so my heart can cope with it. It doesn't yet.
I can't trust myself yet. I'm distant from others. Guarding my heart. Distrustful of happiness. It'll take time. I'm wounded and vulnerable and low on patience. It'll take time.
Fears and worries, self-sabotage. Trying not to let them in. It's hard though, especially when anxiety kicks in. But, that's the fight. I fight.
Do you know me yet?
Saturday, May 16, 2015
My heart...
Having a hard time today. Too many thoughts, too many feelings. I want to cry or rage or scream. Even in my dreams I'm frustrated and hurting and confused. I'm so paranoid. Wondering what people say, worrying what people are saying, thinking. How stupid I am for dating the guys I dated. Different races, different ages -- but not the "right" ones. For trying and believing and being nice and compassionate. Not being mean enough or letting the evil thoughts out. Not being what I could be, what I've been in the past. I don't want to be that person again. I don't like feeling that way -- the toxicity, the drama. I don't like hurting people, I don't like confrontations and fights. I'll do it if it comes to that, if too much builds up and I snap. If I have to get my point across. But why am I going to start out like that? Can't I be mature and handle it in a different way? Work things out, have a discussion that's productive? Why is trying to be a good person a bad thing? Why do I want to cause someone to be mad at me and attack back? That's not pleasant. Arguing is not fun for me. I don't like to debate. Is that all that's accepted in this world? All that people know? If they're close to God, shouldn't they be working on being patient and kind and using compassion and mercy themselves? Shouldn't they want to behave better and move their lives forward? Am I the only one who can see that? They claim to be further ahead than this in me, more developed, more devoted, but they think I shouldn't be so good? I'm not nearly good enough, nowhere near righteous. I'm still learning, just becoming who I can be. Finding my purpose. I keep falling off the path. Sometimes I just don't even want to fight anymore or try anymore. My body, my mind, my soul, won't let me give up. I conditioned myself so well these past few years. So now, even without medication, I pull myself up quickly. Out of the dark. I don't want to, I want to stay there where it's easy and comfortable. But I can't. I can't give up.
Am I weak? Am I strong? I don't know what I am. Getting better but still so broken inside that I can barely breathe. What's wrong with me? There's something so wrong with me. I feel like no one can really see it. No one can fix me, no one can save me. Sometimes I think it'd be such a relief if I did go into the hospital -- at least I could relax and let go and stop pretending to be ok, stop being strong and functional. Just completely let go and let someone take care of me. What's that like, when someone takes care of your every need? I haven't had that, not since I was very young. I've been taking care of myself, fixing myself, keeping these secrets and all the darkness within. No one wanted to hear about it or see it. Even as an adult, people don't want to know or deal with it, with me. Too much trouble. They say they're worried about me, but they just want me to get better so they don't have to worry or be uncomfortable. They're not really going to take on my burden or help me. They want me to help them, tell them I'm ok so they can walk away and feel better. That's not what I need. I need you to be there for ME. Look at me and really see me, see all the scary parts and still stay. Stay.
I guess that's the problem now, again. I feel abandoned. He didn't stay, he can't stay. None of them stay. Why do they come into my life and make me happy and inspire me and make me believe and then not want me anymore? How do they just turn off their feelings like that? There was something there, something everyone could see, but then it's gone? Changes, changes, changes. I don't change. I'm loyal, steady, permanent. I love forever. Unconditionally. Everyone has conditions, boundaries. They won't hold on, they won't fight the way I do. They run away. I didn't. Even when I wanted to leave, when I endured so much. Tested, tried, stretched out, met my limit again and again and surpassed it. It was right. I stayed because God told me to. Keep trying. This whole relationship was guided on faith. Maybe no one can understand that or believe me. Maybe I was just foolish. But I didn't make these choices based soley on love or fairytale ideas. Love isn't always enough. I knew the reality, I knew the consequences, I knew how much these challenges were hurting me. But went through it, got through it, with the hope that things would get better. The situation was a trial, but situations can change. It was supposed to change. It didn't get more stable, but the good still outweighed the bad. We grew stronger, we learned. And so I kept trying. Until I had nothing left to give...then gave a little more. I held it together, but it crumbled in my hands. Things didn't get better, they only got worse. He didn't fix it or fight for it like I hoped, like I prayed. I was the only one fighting, the only one trying, the only one giving. He was going through a bad time, so I still tried to understand. But he chose a different path...his old path, his old life. I wanted to keep moving forward. He was my future. But those dreams died. And now I walk alone, once again. Carrying those broken dreams. Like the W.B. Yeats poem...but he didn't tread lightly.
Did I settle too much? Allow the situation too much leeway because of mental health issues and past traumas? Did I try too hard to be too much? To try to be his rock, his champion, his savior, his support, his family? Don't we all need that sometimes? I do. I wanted him to be that for me too...be there for me and fight for me and not give up on me no matter how bad it gets. I wanted that. And I was capable of giving that so I did. I was gentle, I was kind, I was loving. Sometimes I let the anger and hurt slip out. And we discussed things. Three hours worth of discussion things. The distance was hard, but I tried my best to be there. I drove, even through my fears. But it's my fears that make me seen as weak. My anxiety and issues. So minor compared to his...and hers. But yet, too much. God, I tried so hard, gave so much. And maybe that's the problem. What did he sacrifice for me? I gave him all of me. I gave him my family...and they loved him. He fit, he was a part. There was so much more to come. I believed it could work, against all odds. I thought he believed that too. But...things changed. Everything changed.
I can understand. I can see the logic. I understand that you can't control your emotions. I acknowledge his pain and fear. I know what fear can do. I haven't experienced what he experienced, I don't have a similar background. But I have empathy and compassion. He wanted me to know him, so I know him. Does he know me? More so than he did. But maybe it doesn't matter. I did all I was meant to do. I did what I needed to do. I was appreciated. I didn't do it for him. I will continue doing good. I will probably continue to question and be confused, but I will do what I'm asked to do. I will try to live my life right, better. I have to walk my own path now, focus on making myself better. Focus on building a new future. Maybe my destiny is to just be alone, helping others, getting them to where they need to be. Then they move on. All that loss has a cost though. And I'm not happy. I'm grieving. The loss of this. My grandparents, my dog, Lazy. My birthday's coming up and it will be four years. It's hard. We just lost too much, too many in such a short time. My mom is hurting and that hurts me too. It all goes inside of me, all the pain. People think I haven't been through something as bad as they have, but I have lost a lot, I have suffered. And I take all of their pain and loss and grief and fear...and my family's, and my own. Add all that up. Isn't that enough? There will always be something worse. And once I know about it, it will become a part of me too. If you suffer, I suffer with you, just by reading your words, hearing your voice. Isn't that enough? It doesn't end. The good things end, but the bad things continue on.
I'm so tired. I'm still feeling insecure. But I will post this one. Because I need to take that step. And maybe it will all matter. I believe in miracles. I believe that anything's possible.
I pray for someone I love to love me enough and accept me enough to stay...for those 30+ years to eternity. No more words, no more intentions, no promises. Only action. Prove it. And keep proving it. I was a good girlfriend. And I know I can be a good wife. I feel like I was living the vows already. I am worth the effort. And you'll never have to doubt that you are loved. I know how to prove it. I have so much in my heart.
But I still love him. I can't change that. I wish he could be all the things he once was. All that I could see in him. I still believe in him, that he's better than his circumstances, better than his past. That he can have a bright future and do so much good in this world. Be righteous like he said he wanted to be. He inspired me in that way. My mom said he has a good heart...I'll always believe that. I saw it in action. I loved him for it. I'll continue to pray for him. But I can't be a part of his life. He doesn't want me there anyway.
What do I want? It doesn't matter. What is meant to be will be. Time will heal, time will let go. I have to go. Where? Where I need to be, I guess.
Am I weak? Am I strong? I don't know what I am. Getting better but still so broken inside that I can barely breathe. What's wrong with me? There's something so wrong with me. I feel like no one can really see it. No one can fix me, no one can save me. Sometimes I think it'd be such a relief if I did go into the hospital -- at least I could relax and let go and stop pretending to be ok, stop being strong and functional. Just completely let go and let someone take care of me. What's that like, when someone takes care of your every need? I haven't had that, not since I was very young. I've been taking care of myself, fixing myself, keeping these secrets and all the darkness within. No one wanted to hear about it or see it. Even as an adult, people don't want to know or deal with it, with me. Too much trouble. They say they're worried about me, but they just want me to get better so they don't have to worry or be uncomfortable. They're not really going to take on my burden or help me. They want me to help them, tell them I'm ok so they can walk away and feel better. That's not what I need. I need you to be there for ME. Look at me and really see me, see all the scary parts and still stay. Stay.
I guess that's the problem now, again. I feel abandoned. He didn't stay, he can't stay. None of them stay. Why do they come into my life and make me happy and inspire me and make me believe and then not want me anymore? How do they just turn off their feelings like that? There was something there, something everyone could see, but then it's gone? Changes, changes, changes. I don't change. I'm loyal, steady, permanent. I love forever. Unconditionally. Everyone has conditions, boundaries. They won't hold on, they won't fight the way I do. They run away. I didn't. Even when I wanted to leave, when I endured so much. Tested, tried, stretched out, met my limit again and again and surpassed it. It was right. I stayed because God told me to. Keep trying. This whole relationship was guided on faith. Maybe no one can understand that or believe me. Maybe I was just foolish. But I didn't make these choices based soley on love or fairytale ideas. Love isn't always enough. I knew the reality, I knew the consequences, I knew how much these challenges were hurting me. But went through it, got through it, with the hope that things would get better. The situation was a trial, but situations can change. It was supposed to change. It didn't get more stable, but the good still outweighed the bad. We grew stronger, we learned. And so I kept trying. Until I had nothing left to give...then gave a little more. I held it together, but it crumbled in my hands. Things didn't get better, they only got worse. He didn't fix it or fight for it like I hoped, like I prayed. I was the only one fighting, the only one trying, the only one giving. He was going through a bad time, so I still tried to understand. But he chose a different path...his old path, his old life. I wanted to keep moving forward. He was my future. But those dreams died. And now I walk alone, once again. Carrying those broken dreams. Like the W.B. Yeats poem...but he didn't tread lightly.
Did I settle too much? Allow the situation too much leeway because of mental health issues and past traumas? Did I try too hard to be too much? To try to be his rock, his champion, his savior, his support, his family? Don't we all need that sometimes? I do. I wanted him to be that for me too...be there for me and fight for me and not give up on me no matter how bad it gets. I wanted that. And I was capable of giving that so I did. I was gentle, I was kind, I was loving. Sometimes I let the anger and hurt slip out. And we discussed things. Three hours worth of discussion things. The distance was hard, but I tried my best to be there. I drove, even through my fears. But it's my fears that make me seen as weak. My anxiety and issues. So minor compared to his...and hers. But yet, too much. God, I tried so hard, gave so much. And maybe that's the problem. What did he sacrifice for me? I gave him all of me. I gave him my family...and they loved him. He fit, he was a part. There was so much more to come. I believed it could work, against all odds. I thought he believed that too. But...things changed. Everything changed.
I can understand. I can see the logic. I understand that you can't control your emotions. I acknowledge his pain and fear. I know what fear can do. I haven't experienced what he experienced, I don't have a similar background. But I have empathy and compassion. He wanted me to know him, so I know him. Does he know me? More so than he did. But maybe it doesn't matter. I did all I was meant to do. I did what I needed to do. I was appreciated. I didn't do it for him. I will continue doing good. I will probably continue to question and be confused, but I will do what I'm asked to do. I will try to live my life right, better. I have to walk my own path now, focus on making myself better. Focus on building a new future. Maybe my destiny is to just be alone, helping others, getting them to where they need to be. Then they move on. All that loss has a cost though. And I'm not happy. I'm grieving. The loss of this. My grandparents, my dog, Lazy. My birthday's coming up and it will be four years. It's hard. We just lost too much, too many in such a short time. My mom is hurting and that hurts me too. It all goes inside of me, all the pain. People think I haven't been through something as bad as they have, but I have lost a lot, I have suffered. And I take all of their pain and loss and grief and fear...and my family's, and my own. Add all that up. Isn't that enough? There will always be something worse. And once I know about it, it will become a part of me too. If you suffer, I suffer with you, just by reading your words, hearing your voice. Isn't that enough? It doesn't end. The good things end, but the bad things continue on.
I'm so tired. I'm still feeling insecure. But I will post this one. Because I need to take that step. And maybe it will all matter. I believe in miracles. I believe that anything's possible.
I pray for someone I love to love me enough and accept me enough to stay...for those 30+ years to eternity. No more words, no more intentions, no promises. Only action. Prove it. And keep proving it. I was a good girlfriend. And I know I can be a good wife. I feel like I was living the vows already. I am worth the effort. And you'll never have to doubt that you are loved. I know how to prove it. I have so much in my heart.
But I still love him. I can't change that. I wish he could be all the things he once was. All that I could see in him. I still believe in him, that he's better than his circumstances, better than his past. That he can have a bright future and do so much good in this world. Be righteous like he said he wanted to be. He inspired me in that way. My mom said he has a good heart...I'll always believe that. I saw it in action. I loved him for it. I'll continue to pray for him. But I can't be a part of his life. He doesn't want me there anyway.
What do I want? It doesn't matter. What is meant to be will be. Time will heal, time will let go. I have to go. Where? Where I need to be, I guess.
Monday, February 16, 2015
The Compassion Switch
"True compassion is not just an emotional response but a firm commitment founded on reason. Therefore, a truly compassionate attitude towards others does not change even if they behave negatively." - Dalai Lama
I've been working on compassion...trying to react to situations with love rather than defensiveness or anger or frustration. Showing mercy...giving, loving, helping when someone least deserves it. It's very hard sometimes. I fall, I fail, I still have grudges. I'm not able to do it for everyone yet. Maybe I'm not supposed to.
I'm unsure everyday of what I should do. I seek guidance. I need help. I'm the giver...but I need to be given.
I don't know if it's possible for any person to help me, love me, take care of me the way I need it. No one has tried. Not completely, whole-heartedly tried. I am cared for when there is extra time, when they have extra to give. There are other focuses in their lives, other priorities. That's the way it is. I don't come first...I never have. I take care of myself because I'm the only one who will, always. I've learned that. What choice do I have? If I reach out and they turn away...or worse yet, minimize or belittle my suffering, what choice do I have but to take care of myself? I've been "making myself better", fixing myself since I was 14. I asked for help but help was not given. So I developed a game face, learned how to appear human and well. Even now, people see me smile and say I look so happy. It's ridiculous really, how easy it is to fool people. Without even trying, just by coping. Sad that they can't see behind the smile. They won't look.
Some do...some see it. I have lots of support, lots of people who let me know I'm not alone. I reach out, I vent. I don't keep it all inside like I used to. I do better now. I have healed in some areas. I still have a long way to go. And I don't trust easily. I protect people from the worst of me. I minimize the seriousness of the pain. Not everyone can handle it. And sometimes I get tired of explaining.
Who wants to know, really? I do. I like getting to know people, issues and all. But I'm strange. I like to help. I'm able to even when I'm suffering myself. I have a switch...or a lever. I can be so low, so in need, barely hanging on...but if I encounter someone else in need, my compassion switches on. I feel the lever lock, click, and my strength builds. I can tell them what they need to hear...I can listen, support, be there for them. I felt it yesterday. I felt my body do this. My mind opened. I was consciously aware of it. How much I can do is not much. My strength was still very low, my mind was not clear. But I'm able to be a friend, compassionate, merciful, loving. It's easy to care when someone is hurting. Family, friend, stranger, animal. It's easy to have sympathy and empathy and compassion. It's easy for me to help others when I cannot help myself. That's why that saying is so ridiculous to me: how can you help/take care of someone else if you don't help/take care of yourself first. And the other, how can you love someone else if you don't love yourself. It's easy. It's so easy, I do it every day. Love is love...how I feel about someone else is not based on my mood. It's just there. It comes out of me, regardless. It used to make me so mad and frustrated when people said those things. They just don't GET IT. They think I'm wrong for arguing, because their way is right, in their minds it's not possible. But it is. I do it all the time. Other friends do it all the time. We put aside our own needs and help someone we love. We do what needs to be done. Out of love, out of kindness, out of need. So how is it not possible if we just did it? How did we love someone else and inspire them and help them out of their low place when we were low ourselves? How did I take care of my niece when I had a kidney stone or bad cramps or pain from ovarian cysts or when my world was falling apart in October? I could barely function, barely feed myself, my mind was SCREAMING, but I still took care of someone else. Because that's what you do. You put aside your own pain and you help someone else in need. Even if it's not a responsibility, even if it's not a necessity, if I see my friend hurting, I automatically want to help. So I try. I give what I can. I have to...I have to try. Because, what if I'm the only one who does? What if I'm the only thing standing between life and death. I can't let them die, I can't let them suffer and be lost if I can stop it. I have to help. And beyond that, I want to help. It's a need. It's my nature. Maybe it's not healthy to put someone else first so often but that's the initial reaction. It hurts me more if I don't help.
But I realize now that not everyone has that need, that level of compassion and overwhelming empathy. And even if they do, even if they want to help, they may be unable. They don't have that switch that lets them turn off their problems and give that strength to someone else. They don't have it to give. They have to focus on their own issues and help themselves because that's what they need to do. They can't help anyone else, they have nothing left. Because I am able, it's hard to understand when others don't help or turn away. I reached out yesterday...I needed him...but he couldn't help. Because his own needs were too great. I know this, I know he's struggling, more than me. I know this and I love him, so my compassion switch turned on. I had a moment of disappointment and hopelessness, then my strength increased and my focus was on easing his suffering. I don't know if I did, I don't know if I helped. Maybe I made it worse by being too helpful, too controlling, too smothering, too nurturing. I just offered my support, my love, my time. Those are good things. But some people find that off-putting. I try to fix things and they don't want to be fixed. That was the past, one person who had a problem with me. But he didn't love me, didn't accept me or understand me. This is now, this is different. He does understand. He does love me and accept me and know me. But still...I don't know. I got scared that he was in a bad way, scared that I could lose him, so I held on...gave all I had to give. He didn't take it, didn't reply. I can't let that matter. I gave my all, I tried. It's all I can do. I tried. He knows I'm here. Maybe I shouldn't be. Maybe it's too much...too much pain and instability for me. But this is what I'm supposed to do now. There's a reason for this. I have to stay true to that, that faith.
I'm hurting. My heart is hurting, my brain is hurting. Because I lost a friend. And I didn't even know he was gone. He died in October and I didn't even know. I didn't find out until Saturday night. How did I not know? No one told me because they didn't know we were close. And how close could we have been if it took me 4 months to check up on him? How did I not know? All these months. My friend is gone forever and I didn't even know. I was in shock and disbelief until yesterday...then I cried. But it still doesn't seem real. And who can I talk to about it, who can I ask. Everyone else has been grieving for 4 months, they've moved forward. Mine is just starting, like it just happened. But it didn't. He's been gone this whole time. I feel stupid and guilty...I didn't do enough, wasn't there enough, didn't love enough, didn't talk enough. I remember his voice, I do. He helped me, he gave me different perspectives. He understood the struggle with depression, anxiety. He got it. He had it. So many problems. But I thought he was ok, I thought he was still out there. How did I not know? He's gone forever. I could never have handled it if I found out the week it happened. I was in a bad place, already barely functional. Like I said, my mind was screaming. I already lost something. I couldn't have handled another loss. But all these months? I don't know. It's hard to feel this helpless. What can I do now? He's gone.
Where is my life going? I don't want to think about that. I put so much pressure on myself. I'm trying to change things, move forward, do right. I'm struggling. I'm unsure. I know what needs to be done, but a lot is still questionable. I gave too much and let too much happen. I thought it was right...it was right. Is it still the right thing to do? To stay, to hold on? He's not holding on to me. How much longer can I fool myself. But it's a bad time and bad times can get better. I don't give up. But I can't stay in this place. I can't continue to be unhealthy. It's not my fight. He has to make his changes, he has to work on things. And I have to step away and work on myself. I try too hard and give too much to everyone else. I keep trying and trying and trying. But not forever. I deserve more. I deserve to be held and cherished and fought for. Shown love. I understand that the illness is preventing that right now. I understand. I'm trying to understand. Compassion and mercy. I am very tired though. And I keep forgetting, other people keep forgetting, I'm doing all of this without medication. It's hard. And this is the first S.A.D. season without it. The first fall/winter since the year after my aunt died. I was on antidepressants for 8 years. I've only been off for 7 months. I'm still learning how to cope without that backup. It's going to take time, it's going to be hard. I lost a lot of weight. It's not going back on so easily. My appetite is low, having blood sugar problems. I don't look the way I want to look. I can't afford to lose any more...I don't want to be sick all the time again. This isn't healthy for me. I know. I have to make changes. I have to keep the negative things from affecting me this way. I'm doing my best. Maybe I need to do better. Or different. Take some time away from trying so hard. I can still be compassionate and supportive and take care of myself too.
Let go...let God. Trust that it will all work out. Have faith in what I cannot see. Believe, pray. I have to do what feels right to me. Try.
I've been working on compassion...trying to react to situations with love rather than defensiveness or anger or frustration. Showing mercy...giving, loving, helping when someone least deserves it. It's very hard sometimes. I fall, I fail, I still have grudges. I'm not able to do it for everyone yet. Maybe I'm not supposed to.
I'm unsure everyday of what I should do. I seek guidance. I need help. I'm the giver...but I need to be given.
I don't know if it's possible for any person to help me, love me, take care of me the way I need it. No one has tried. Not completely, whole-heartedly tried. I am cared for when there is extra time, when they have extra to give. There are other focuses in their lives, other priorities. That's the way it is. I don't come first...I never have. I take care of myself because I'm the only one who will, always. I've learned that. What choice do I have? If I reach out and they turn away...or worse yet, minimize or belittle my suffering, what choice do I have but to take care of myself? I've been "making myself better", fixing myself since I was 14. I asked for help but help was not given. So I developed a game face, learned how to appear human and well. Even now, people see me smile and say I look so happy. It's ridiculous really, how easy it is to fool people. Without even trying, just by coping. Sad that they can't see behind the smile. They won't look.
Some do...some see it. I have lots of support, lots of people who let me know I'm not alone. I reach out, I vent. I don't keep it all inside like I used to. I do better now. I have healed in some areas. I still have a long way to go. And I don't trust easily. I protect people from the worst of me. I minimize the seriousness of the pain. Not everyone can handle it. And sometimes I get tired of explaining.
Who wants to know, really? I do. I like getting to know people, issues and all. But I'm strange. I like to help. I'm able to even when I'm suffering myself. I have a switch...or a lever. I can be so low, so in need, barely hanging on...but if I encounter someone else in need, my compassion switches on. I feel the lever lock, click, and my strength builds. I can tell them what they need to hear...I can listen, support, be there for them. I felt it yesterday. I felt my body do this. My mind opened. I was consciously aware of it. How much I can do is not much. My strength was still very low, my mind was not clear. But I'm able to be a friend, compassionate, merciful, loving. It's easy to care when someone is hurting. Family, friend, stranger, animal. It's easy to have sympathy and empathy and compassion. It's easy for me to help others when I cannot help myself. That's why that saying is so ridiculous to me: how can you help/take care of someone else if you don't help/take care of yourself first. And the other, how can you love someone else if you don't love yourself. It's easy. It's so easy, I do it every day. Love is love...how I feel about someone else is not based on my mood. It's just there. It comes out of me, regardless. It used to make me so mad and frustrated when people said those things. They just don't GET IT. They think I'm wrong for arguing, because their way is right, in their minds it's not possible. But it is. I do it all the time. Other friends do it all the time. We put aside our own needs and help someone we love. We do what needs to be done. Out of love, out of kindness, out of need. So how is it not possible if we just did it? How did we love someone else and inspire them and help them out of their low place when we were low ourselves? How did I take care of my niece when I had a kidney stone or bad cramps or pain from ovarian cysts or when my world was falling apart in October? I could barely function, barely feed myself, my mind was SCREAMING, but I still took care of someone else. Because that's what you do. You put aside your own pain and you help someone else in need. Even if it's not a responsibility, even if it's not a necessity, if I see my friend hurting, I automatically want to help. So I try. I give what I can. I have to...I have to try. Because, what if I'm the only one who does? What if I'm the only thing standing between life and death. I can't let them die, I can't let them suffer and be lost if I can stop it. I have to help. And beyond that, I want to help. It's a need. It's my nature. Maybe it's not healthy to put someone else first so often but that's the initial reaction. It hurts me more if I don't help.
But I realize now that not everyone has that need, that level of compassion and overwhelming empathy. And even if they do, even if they want to help, they may be unable. They don't have that switch that lets them turn off their problems and give that strength to someone else. They don't have it to give. They have to focus on their own issues and help themselves because that's what they need to do. They can't help anyone else, they have nothing left. Because I am able, it's hard to understand when others don't help or turn away. I reached out yesterday...I needed him...but he couldn't help. Because his own needs were too great. I know this, I know he's struggling, more than me. I know this and I love him, so my compassion switch turned on. I had a moment of disappointment and hopelessness, then my strength increased and my focus was on easing his suffering. I don't know if I did, I don't know if I helped. Maybe I made it worse by being too helpful, too controlling, too smothering, too nurturing. I just offered my support, my love, my time. Those are good things. But some people find that off-putting. I try to fix things and they don't want to be fixed. That was the past, one person who had a problem with me. But he didn't love me, didn't accept me or understand me. This is now, this is different. He does understand. He does love me and accept me and know me. But still...I don't know. I got scared that he was in a bad way, scared that I could lose him, so I held on...gave all I had to give. He didn't take it, didn't reply. I can't let that matter. I gave my all, I tried. It's all I can do. I tried. He knows I'm here. Maybe I shouldn't be. Maybe it's too much...too much pain and instability for me. But this is what I'm supposed to do now. There's a reason for this. I have to stay true to that, that faith.
I'm hurting. My heart is hurting, my brain is hurting. Because I lost a friend. And I didn't even know he was gone. He died in October and I didn't even know. I didn't find out until Saturday night. How did I not know? No one told me because they didn't know we were close. And how close could we have been if it took me 4 months to check up on him? How did I not know? All these months. My friend is gone forever and I didn't even know. I was in shock and disbelief until yesterday...then I cried. But it still doesn't seem real. And who can I talk to about it, who can I ask. Everyone else has been grieving for 4 months, they've moved forward. Mine is just starting, like it just happened. But it didn't. He's been gone this whole time. I feel stupid and guilty...I didn't do enough, wasn't there enough, didn't love enough, didn't talk enough. I remember his voice, I do. He helped me, he gave me different perspectives. He understood the struggle with depression, anxiety. He got it. He had it. So many problems. But I thought he was ok, I thought he was still out there. How did I not know? He's gone forever. I could never have handled it if I found out the week it happened. I was in a bad place, already barely functional. Like I said, my mind was screaming. I already lost something. I couldn't have handled another loss. But all these months? I don't know. It's hard to feel this helpless. What can I do now? He's gone.
Where is my life going? I don't want to think about that. I put so much pressure on myself. I'm trying to change things, move forward, do right. I'm struggling. I'm unsure. I know what needs to be done, but a lot is still questionable. I gave too much and let too much happen. I thought it was right...it was right. Is it still the right thing to do? To stay, to hold on? He's not holding on to me. How much longer can I fool myself. But it's a bad time and bad times can get better. I don't give up. But I can't stay in this place. I can't continue to be unhealthy. It's not my fight. He has to make his changes, he has to work on things. And I have to step away and work on myself. I try too hard and give too much to everyone else. I keep trying and trying and trying. But not forever. I deserve more. I deserve to be held and cherished and fought for. Shown love. I understand that the illness is preventing that right now. I understand. I'm trying to understand. Compassion and mercy. I am very tired though. And I keep forgetting, other people keep forgetting, I'm doing all of this without medication. It's hard. And this is the first S.A.D. season without it. The first fall/winter since the year after my aunt died. I was on antidepressants for 8 years. I've only been off for 7 months. I'm still learning how to cope without that backup. It's going to take time, it's going to be hard. I lost a lot of weight. It's not going back on so easily. My appetite is low, having blood sugar problems. I don't look the way I want to look. I can't afford to lose any more...I don't want to be sick all the time again. This isn't healthy for me. I know. I have to make changes. I have to keep the negative things from affecting me this way. I'm doing my best. Maybe I need to do better. Or different. Take some time away from trying so hard. I can still be compassionate and supportive and take care of myself too.
Let go...let God. Trust that it will all work out. Have faith in what I cannot see. Believe, pray. I have to do what feels right to me. Try.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Strength and healing...writing through the fog
I feel like I haven't let writing do its job to heal me. And maybe that's because it hasn't. I wrote 3 blog posts...September, October, January...that were not published. Saved as drafts, for my eyes only. Full of heartache and fear and introspection. They were too personal to my situation, at the time, to be made public. But the words needed to be said...the pain needed to come out. Maybe one day I'll publish them, or at least, talk about those situations. But no need to revisit that now.
I went through a lot of trials and tests in 2014. I was broken, shattered, hopeless. Loved and rejected. Lost and found. I was taken to the edge, surpassed my limits. But I endured. Somehow, I always do. I pick myself back up, put myself back together, try again. Keep going. Keep "graceful dancing". I don't know why God gave me this strength, but I am grateful. I'm still here. I became a different person after all I went through. Each time, I built something. I thought it was a test of the relationship, of the bonds between myself and others, but I know now, that it was a test of my strength and character. It may seem a minor feat or experience to someone else, these things I had to accept or work through in my head, my heart. But it was hard for me, it was new and difficult. I had no experience, no frame of reference to understand some of these things. To cope. To get past it and keep moving forward. And I'm an emotional being - I feel everything so intensely and completely and it doesn't go away. I can't turn it off. And I feel what others feel too...so it's all inside of me, all the time. It's overwhelming. It's painful. Sometimes I wish I didn't feel anything. But then I wouldn't be me.
It's important to be me, right? God chose me for this, gave me this life, these things to overcome. It's a struggle to stay sane sometimes. Right now, the anxiety is trying to take over. It wins sometimes. Yesterday, today, I can't regulate my emotions, I can't be rational about rational things. I get upset and afraid and blow things out of proportion...and worry, worry, worry. I feel like everything I say and do is wrong. Bad things happen, accidents, mistakes...and that proves it. I know better, in my head. But I feel like all of the bad things are true. It's a fog that comes over me, like depression. I was down over the weekend, let thoughts get to me, situations out of my control. Let others' opinions matter too much, let fears take over. Analyze, analyze, analyze. I'm better than this, than that. I know this. But when you're in that state, this state I'm in NOW, your brain lies to you. All of THAT is true. But what's actually true, isn't, doesn't exist in the fog. But I can tell myself what's real most of the time. I can calm myself down or make myself escape into sleep. Sometimes that's the only way. But when I'm awake and thinking...then it's a problem. It can be dangerous, the things my brain tells me to do...or shows me, I should say. Options, possibilities. But they feel like they're really happening. That's the G.A.D. anxiety. Fear of everything and anything happening. There are triggers, sure. But if it's a chemical imbalance or hormonal or as a result of Seasonal Affective Disorder symptoms, then it just happens. It's just there. And the other stuff that happens just enhances it. It's like a hot surface...ok by itself, but you flick something flammable at it or set something on top of it or touch it, then you have a reaction. But even in the quiet times, when the thoughts aren't so bad or so immediate, the pain is there. Physical pain. I don't know why. The struggle with maintaining your game face? Keeping yourself sane? Telling yourself what is instead of letting the fear win? From doing mundane activities and responsibilities when you should be in bed recovering? I don't know, I guess all of those. I'm just very tired and very achy and my head hurts. I had anxiety in the grocery store - fears, thoughts of the future, wondering if I'm lacking, if I'll be enough for him, if the life I want will happen. Or will everything be taken away again? It was triggered by little things...a slogan on a t-shirt that made me think of another conversation and other possibilities. Anxiety is built on "what if". That's all it is - what if this happens or what if that's what they meant when they said that or what if they took what I said the wrong way and now they hate me. And the "what ifs" become real, become "this is". Constantly borrowing trouble. Achieving failure in advance. Over and over. In and out, up and down. Until I can get through the fog and see the truth.
People who don't experience this think it's easy to just think happy thoughts or stop thinking altogether. You can change your thinking, but it's a struggle, it takes effort and training and it's NOT easy. I know the truth, but I can't always feel the truth. There's something blocking that. And I need to be able to feel. I use my intuition, my instincts. They're always right, never wrong. You can say it's God guiding me, or whatever. I feel that. And I need that.
It helps to reflect on things and examine them and work through them - for me, anyway. I have friends who I trust and lean on and vent to when I need to talk to someone. Otherwise, I'd just keep it all inside. That's not healthy. But there are times when I have to face it on my own and make a decision based on what's best for my life. Because I'm the one who has to live it. I get so sick of myself sometimes...but I can't escape me. I have to be here with me everyday. I'm grateful for all that I have. I'm grateful for all those who love me when I don't deserve it...and when I do. I'm grateful for all the good times and good things and good people in my life. I'm grateful that I got to experience love and being loved and everything else in the past (almost) 4 months. I pray for the future I envision, for more good to come. For the life, for the love, for us. Family. I just pray for God to keep us all safe, to take care of me and help me and guide me through this. I'm doing the best that I can, as I am. I've accomplished much. I am strong. I am loving. I am a good person. I have to keep trying. I know this.
I know there will be more tests and obstacles and challenges. I thought 2015 would magically be better and all of those things would go away. That overcoming hardships at the beginning of a journey would ensure a happy ending. That I'd suddenly know what I needed to do for my finances and my health and my future and everything else. I thought it would be easier now, that certain things would be revealed to me. Maybe they have, in a different way than I expected. And I'm still learning how to see them. Maybe they're not easier...but they're easier for me to handle (accept, navigate, etc.) because I'm stronger now. I've been through situations that have prepared me for future situations. They still hurt, they're still difficult or frustrating, but I'm able to bounce back quicker, or maybe they barely touch me. I'm still afraid, because you never know what the future will be like. Some things have shaken me and made me reevaluate, but I'm trying to have faith. What happened in other people's lives won't necessarily happen in mine. And what happened in my past is past. This is a new set of rules. Believe. Keep holding on, keep trying, keep living. Don't anticipate pain or borrow trouble. Deal with the now. Accept what I can. Change what I am able.
See, I know. It's just hard to make it manifest inside myself sometimes. Love is powerful...it can make us do all sorts of things we never thought we were capable of. But so is strength. I have become more than I thought possible. I'm proud of myself. I know that I will become stronger and more capable. I know there is a plan for me, a path for me. I will be the best that I can be. As much as I am able.
Writing this helped. I still feel very tired and there's still so much inside. The fog hasn't lifted yet and it may be days before it does. And with no meds...this is hard. But I'm trying to be better. This time of year is just difficult for me. And it has been oh, so challenging. I'm a private person and I don't put much of myself out there for everyone to see. It's hard for me to say things. I'm not always understood or accepted. I'm not always seen. Sometimes I don't want to be seen. I can't change my nature. I am who I am, I think what I think, I feel what I feel. It just is. But I can adapt and be open to new things. I can evolve and improve. I know so much now, I have a different perspective on many things in this world. I'm glad that I've seen different worlds, met different kinds of people. And there's so much more that can be explored and visited. I need the chance. And then I'll take it. Living for opportunities and living my life while I have it.
There's more I could say. And maybe I could help someone else by sharing more of my story. And I'll write more, another time. This was what I needed to do now. Maybe a few will read it and understand...maybe no one will. It's convoluted and segues into many facets of my thoughts and some parts only someone who I've told about my experiences will understand. That doesn't matter though, because I needed to do this for me. This is where I am, this is who I am. Maybe I'll listen to some Blue tonight. That's music therapy. But I definitely need to sleep.
Thank you for listening...
I went through a lot of trials and tests in 2014. I was broken, shattered, hopeless. Loved and rejected. Lost and found. I was taken to the edge, surpassed my limits. But I endured. Somehow, I always do. I pick myself back up, put myself back together, try again. Keep going. Keep "graceful dancing". I don't know why God gave me this strength, but I am grateful. I'm still here. I became a different person after all I went through. Each time, I built something. I thought it was a test of the relationship, of the bonds between myself and others, but I know now, that it was a test of my strength and character. It may seem a minor feat or experience to someone else, these things I had to accept or work through in my head, my heart. But it was hard for me, it was new and difficult. I had no experience, no frame of reference to understand some of these things. To cope. To get past it and keep moving forward. And I'm an emotional being - I feel everything so intensely and completely and it doesn't go away. I can't turn it off. And I feel what others feel too...so it's all inside of me, all the time. It's overwhelming. It's painful. Sometimes I wish I didn't feel anything. But then I wouldn't be me.
It's important to be me, right? God chose me for this, gave me this life, these things to overcome. It's a struggle to stay sane sometimes. Right now, the anxiety is trying to take over. It wins sometimes. Yesterday, today, I can't regulate my emotions, I can't be rational about rational things. I get upset and afraid and blow things out of proportion...and worry, worry, worry. I feel like everything I say and do is wrong. Bad things happen, accidents, mistakes...and that proves it. I know better, in my head. But I feel like all of the bad things are true. It's a fog that comes over me, like depression. I was down over the weekend, let thoughts get to me, situations out of my control. Let others' opinions matter too much, let fears take over. Analyze, analyze, analyze. I'm better than this, than that. I know this. But when you're in that state, this state I'm in NOW, your brain lies to you. All of THAT is true. But what's actually true, isn't, doesn't exist in the fog. But I can tell myself what's real most of the time. I can calm myself down or make myself escape into sleep. Sometimes that's the only way. But when I'm awake and thinking...then it's a problem. It can be dangerous, the things my brain tells me to do...or shows me, I should say. Options, possibilities. But they feel like they're really happening. That's the G.A.D. anxiety. Fear of everything and anything happening. There are triggers, sure. But if it's a chemical imbalance or hormonal or as a result of Seasonal Affective Disorder symptoms, then it just happens. It's just there. And the other stuff that happens just enhances it. It's like a hot surface...ok by itself, but you flick something flammable at it or set something on top of it or touch it, then you have a reaction. But even in the quiet times, when the thoughts aren't so bad or so immediate, the pain is there. Physical pain. I don't know why. The struggle with maintaining your game face? Keeping yourself sane? Telling yourself what is instead of letting the fear win? From doing mundane activities and responsibilities when you should be in bed recovering? I don't know, I guess all of those. I'm just very tired and very achy and my head hurts. I had anxiety in the grocery store - fears, thoughts of the future, wondering if I'm lacking, if I'll be enough for him, if the life I want will happen. Or will everything be taken away again? It was triggered by little things...a slogan on a t-shirt that made me think of another conversation and other possibilities. Anxiety is built on "what if". That's all it is - what if this happens or what if that's what they meant when they said that or what if they took what I said the wrong way and now they hate me. And the "what ifs" become real, become "this is". Constantly borrowing trouble. Achieving failure in advance. Over and over. In and out, up and down. Until I can get through the fog and see the truth.
People who don't experience this think it's easy to just think happy thoughts or stop thinking altogether. You can change your thinking, but it's a struggle, it takes effort and training and it's NOT easy. I know the truth, but I can't always feel the truth. There's something blocking that. And I need to be able to feel. I use my intuition, my instincts. They're always right, never wrong. You can say it's God guiding me, or whatever. I feel that. And I need that.
It helps to reflect on things and examine them and work through them - for me, anyway. I have friends who I trust and lean on and vent to when I need to talk to someone. Otherwise, I'd just keep it all inside. That's not healthy. But there are times when I have to face it on my own and make a decision based on what's best for my life. Because I'm the one who has to live it. I get so sick of myself sometimes...but I can't escape me. I have to be here with me everyday. I'm grateful for all that I have. I'm grateful for all those who love me when I don't deserve it...and when I do. I'm grateful for all the good times and good things and good people in my life. I'm grateful that I got to experience love and being loved and everything else in the past (almost) 4 months. I pray for the future I envision, for more good to come. For the life, for the love, for us. Family. I just pray for God to keep us all safe, to take care of me and help me and guide me through this. I'm doing the best that I can, as I am. I've accomplished much. I am strong. I am loving. I am a good person. I have to keep trying. I know this.
I know there will be more tests and obstacles and challenges. I thought 2015 would magically be better and all of those things would go away. That overcoming hardships at the beginning of a journey would ensure a happy ending. That I'd suddenly know what I needed to do for my finances and my health and my future and everything else. I thought it would be easier now, that certain things would be revealed to me. Maybe they have, in a different way than I expected. And I'm still learning how to see them. Maybe they're not easier...but they're easier for me to handle (accept, navigate, etc.) because I'm stronger now. I've been through situations that have prepared me for future situations. They still hurt, they're still difficult or frustrating, but I'm able to bounce back quicker, or maybe they barely touch me. I'm still afraid, because you never know what the future will be like. Some things have shaken me and made me reevaluate, but I'm trying to have faith. What happened in other people's lives won't necessarily happen in mine. And what happened in my past is past. This is a new set of rules. Believe. Keep holding on, keep trying, keep living. Don't anticipate pain or borrow trouble. Deal with the now. Accept what I can. Change what I am able.
See, I know. It's just hard to make it manifest inside myself sometimes. Love is powerful...it can make us do all sorts of things we never thought we were capable of. But so is strength. I have become more than I thought possible. I'm proud of myself. I know that I will become stronger and more capable. I know there is a plan for me, a path for me. I will be the best that I can be. As much as I am able.
Writing this helped. I still feel very tired and there's still so much inside. The fog hasn't lifted yet and it may be days before it does. And with no meds...this is hard. But I'm trying to be better. This time of year is just difficult for me. And it has been oh, so challenging. I'm a private person and I don't put much of myself out there for everyone to see. It's hard for me to say things. I'm not always understood or accepted. I'm not always seen. Sometimes I don't want to be seen. I can't change my nature. I am who I am, I think what I think, I feel what I feel. It just is. But I can adapt and be open to new things. I can evolve and improve. I know so much now, I have a different perspective on many things in this world. I'm glad that I've seen different worlds, met different kinds of people. And there's so much more that can be explored and visited. I need the chance. And then I'll take it. Living for opportunities and living my life while I have it.
There's more I could say. And maybe I could help someone else by sharing more of my story. And I'll write more, another time. This was what I needed to do now. Maybe a few will read it and understand...maybe no one will. It's convoluted and segues into many facets of my thoughts and some parts only someone who I've told about my experiences will understand. That doesn't matter though, because I needed to do this for me. This is where I am, this is who I am. Maybe I'll listen to some Blue tonight. That's music therapy. But I definitely need to sleep.
Thank you for listening...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)