My mom asked me today what I was planning to do to ensure that a particular situation didn’t kill me. She asked it just like that. What’s your plan dude? I told her that I was working on it and that I already felt like I was handling things better. She half-heartedly shook her head but it was pretty clear to me that she didn’t really believe me. If I’m being completely fair, I’m not sure I believed myself.
This is where I’ve always fallen down. This part.
I think I shared this ages ago but a friend of mine was once half giving advice (and half sort or criticizing me) and told me that I tend to expect something different out of people, hence my constant state of hurt and disappointment. I was a little annoyed at the time because I kind of just needed someone in my corner, but also, I got it. I was crafting a scenario in my head that didn’t really make sense. I was hoping for the best and mourning the worst.
I guess I felt (and feel) like if I gave up, something would fundamentally shift inside of me, in a negative direction, and I’d never be able to reclaim who I once was or what I thought myself to be. That’s not true though. I was just making myself a vulnerable, frustrated, sad punching bag over and over again.
I am doing that. Am. Present tense. I’m working on it but I’m not there yet. I clearly have something to prove. I need to show people that I’m tougher. I can stick it out, I can navigate this, I will prevail and if I do not, it doesn’t matter because something good will come of this and that good will shape me.
What do I have to prove? I mean….really?!
Now I’m trying something a little different. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet other than it’s different and sometimes just that fact is the thing that shapes us and changes us for the better.
I’m accepting that this crazy fucked up planet has brought me right here for a reason. Not everything is a test per se, but also, it is. I’m meant to grow and learn. I’m meant to truly understand just how badly I fucked up last time by being asleep at the wheel. Knowingly conked out.
My paintbox is missing some colors. I’m not interested in sharing what’s missing with you right now because I’m still working on what that means for me. I’m still trying to adjust my perspective so that things make some sense and also, I’m trying to do the work actively to make some sense of things on my own. I’m also trying to plug into the ripple effects of all these things so that I can process what they mean for me.
I’m going to share a little story that might seem random but it isn’t, at all. I have two friends where I’m trying to figure out my place. I know that if I fit myself into their mold, things will likely turn out alright in the end. I also know that I’m not super happy when I’m squishing myself into that mold. That mold makes me analyze every word before it spills off my tongue (not in a helpful and mindful way, but in a paranoid and self conscious kind of way). That mold makes me feel fake. That mold makes me feel like these people don’t really like me for who I actually am but who I can be in their eyes. That mold is actually exhausting to fit into all the time. And yet, it’s tempting because it serves the narrative of keeping things a bit more status quo. Part of me desires that more than feeling comfortable in my own skin.
Yikes. Did you squirm when you read that? I get it. I’m not here to say things that are warm and fuzzy and make your heart sing. I mean, I don’t mind doing that here and there but generally speaking, that’s not on my agenda.
I’m here to share all the tough stuff that plagues my brain and weighs heavy on my heart and feels uncomfortable and embarrassing and shitty to say out loud. I’m here to say all the things that I think and share some of what I feel in the hopes that you are like yessss I get it. Me too.
I am desperately hoping that maybe you get to feel a little less alone in your struggle, your wondering, your wanting, and your grief. I want you to know that we are in this together. I swear I’m not reading off some self help poster. I promise. My friendships with some people have irreparably changed over the last year or so but you know what? I’ll still forever be grateful to them for getting me through some of the worst times I’ve had by simply telling me they got it. I had people around me who shared their sadness and anger and humiliation, and it made me feel seen and heard.
So yes, trite as it may be, that’s what I’m trying to serve up to you here. My love. My compassion. My understanding. I want you to really know that the journey to figuring yourself and your world out is a solo one but we are still in it together. I can’t do it for you, but I can do it with you.
I can tell you that you are whole, even if you are broken. You are loved, even if you haven’t found your person or a person. You are entitled to feel sad and crappy. You can feel like nothing is going to change and you will never change and life will always feel bleak. But, you also have the power to turn the ship around.
I was talking to my sister about the Easter bunny as it relates to my niece and nephew. I asked her the ages at which she thinks they’ll stop believing in all the things. You know what she said to me? She told me that she wasn’t really sure but that she wasn’t looking to accelerate the process either. They have a whole lifetime to be disappointed by things that seemed real becoming a mirage. Why not just let them hang onto fantasy as long as possible? I started to debate this with her. I did. Like what the fuck. I mean I hear you but isn’t that also cruel? Shouldn’t you manage that whole business super tight? Eyes wide open, world is what it is and all?
Then I realized how wrong I was for so many reasons. Mostly because I think that’s where most of us were failed in life. Not because we don’t believe in the Easter bunny or Elijah, but because we stop believing in ourselves. We stop believing that we can paint the fuck of anything no matter what was left our of our kits. We can shift our paradigm through sheer will and determination. We can make life something that works for us.
It’s one life that you’ve got. Paint something good my friends.
Have a good weekend.
x
L.
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