Awhile back I wrote about how I was learning to love myself. I confessed that I have struggled most of my life liking myself let alone loving myself. I wrote that post back in May of this year.
And I like to say that I’ve gotten better at not putting myself down. That I worked on my “little thing’s” list and that I have been working on shifting my mindset. It wouldn’t be honest to say that I haven’t completely. But I haven’t made any solid progress I’d say. And that’s OK! Cause let’s be real here. Nothing happens over night. It takes time. Especially when I am trying to adjust nearly 24 years of thinking. And it’s on days like today when I am writing this that it just gets really really hard.
It’s like one thing goes wrong and I get this little black seed that is planted in my head and then it grows and it turns into this nasty weed. Which spreads into a wild, overgrown tangled mess of prickly vines and thorny flowers. Pretty at first, but sharp and nasty soon after.
It takes awhile to work through the mess. To pluck out the weeds. And I always get scratched in the process.
The reason I decided that I should write this when I was in a bad state of mind is because I usually find that it helps me to work out what is wrong by writing it out. Exploring why I am feeling the way I am feeling.
Because today is a day where I am really disliking myself. I hate how I am feeling. How angry, upset, and frustrated I am. For seemingly no reason. I honestly don’t understand why I am feeling this way. Why I feel so annoyed with people. Why I feel so alone even though I’m not really alone. I am mad with myself.
And for anyone even thinking over hormonal, you can kindly fuck right off.
I’m upset with how trashed I allowed my bedroom to become. How one person managed to put me in a sour mood. How it is so hard for me to keep the tears at bay because I am past the point of exhaustion.
I am mad at myself at how frustrated I was at my dogs this past week. How quickly I got frustrated with how needy and demanding they were since my family was gone.
And it’s been so hard to forgive myself. To try and let it go. To try and move on. Because it always seems that as soon as I get close to feeling better, something else happens. Something else always happens. I never get a fucking break from life.
I just want a nap. I want to sleep through the night and wake up feeling refreshed. I am burning out but I can’t do anything to stop it. No adjustments can be made so that I can feel some sort of break. I am suffocating slowly. There is a pressure building on my chest and I can’t get it off.
Every journey of recovery is going to have bouts of bad. Dips in the upward trajectory of the path. And I am clearly in a dip.
And while I am still not 100% out of said dip, I am feeling better now that I let out all that I’ve been holding in.
I want you to take this as an encouragement to keep going. That it is OK to have bad days, bad moments through your journey. Because that is what life is really. Ups and downs and swirls and all that stupid shit. And talk about this shit with someone. Or write it all out. Don’t hold it in cause that’s even worse. Look at me. I am a prime example of why it is bad to do this. So don’t.
Thanks for letting me ramble.