Sometimes I go back and read back what I wrote, relive the pain and joy of the moment, remembering what I looked like, what I felt and where my thoughts lead me, trying out new avenues and twists to make a more complete picture of the whole self help journey so far. For that is mainly what this is, to many degrees. I want to be the me I can be and can enjoy being, not this empty shell of failed opportunities and lost potential. I also see my mistakes, or the rather frustratingly oddball things I wrote and I cringe, I flail at myself and remind myself that at the time it seemed like a good idea. I have to try and let go of “improving” what I wrote.
But what am I trying to accomplish, what are my goals, where is this journey taking me and do I like what I find while traversing the path I have decided on taking? Well, quite frankly this whole thing is “new” for me and it is scary as hell, I do not know what to expect, even how to take the next step after the one I have just taken and still I am plodding along, still I go onwards. This in itself is a victory, something I should be able to feel good about, but then there is that nagging voice in my mind that tells me how things have been less than optimal, how I can improve, be better, raising the expectations beyond achievable limits. That is when the doubt sets in, but sometimes I relish in the challenge that I give myself, I tend to be extremely stubborn and go against the flow, when someone says I cannot do something, I try to prove them wrong. I am trying this tactic on myself now and sometimes it works.
I have also submitted something to another blog, not sure if it is what they are looking for, but it does mean a lot to me, something I have not shared before, something I have not really addressed, something that fuels a lot of my insecurities, not just something that has been steadily growing over the years, but something that really formed a catalyst for my current state. It is something that I never truly addressed even in therapy, but I think I can say this has to do with domestic abuse and neglect, something that eroded the last vestiges of sanity and threw me off into the deep end. Now I am not saying that I am blaming anyone, but myself, for this. I let this happen in my mind, so I should be accountable, or should I? I guess that will have to be reserved for another post though, be it a guest entry or on here.
We all deserve life that was given and we all have the right to try and improve it and shape it into what we would like it to become. I do not believe in dividing people up into little boxes, labelling them and sorting them on importance to me or my ideals. I have lied in the past, I am ashamed of this, the lies I wove into my life got big, huge even, they have taken over most of my ability to function in maintaining them. So I guess in a way I deserve to be lied to as well. I deserve to live with the masks of others as I showed only mine for so long. Maybe that is why I have so little true contact with people from my past, or maybe I failed to see past my mask, lied too often, or made just too many mistakes and just upped and left anyway. I do not know for certain. Maybe I am getting exactly what I deserve, maybe I should repent more and mend broken trusts and bonds. I know that this would be an impossible task, I know that me going in circles about this is not going to solve anything. Maybe I am not sure exactly where I am going with this, or maybe my perfectionism is working overtime again.
Perhaps try to stick to poetry for a while while you figure out what it is you exactly want, you idiot, though you fail at those too, so who knows what is best… I sure as hell don’t at this point. You are just a mess, fix it, because you are not taking my advice.
My mind is so much fun sometimes…