8/2/21
Keeping small promises to myself to build trust in self.
That’s the sticky tricky path I stumble along
I wanted to kill my self for so long, I’d tuned out the desire. It was a steady whine in the background I tuned in and out of without trying.
Looking back, I’ve come to recognize that I didn’t want to kill ME, I wanted to kill my SELF.
My conditional self was at constant war with me, and I’ve been taking steps to untangle the threads to get to me.
It’s all mixed up and in knots, but prodding, pulling, twisting tugs are getting me to slowly shake loose from the tension and ties that kept me bound for so long.
I was existing in a manner that was contradictory to my actual self, creating no end of discomfort
Why do I rebel so hard against something I’ve committed to doing?
Ah, the self sabotage. No wait. . . it’s . . . invalidation. No.
Whatever the term, keeping promises.
Posting here every day is one of the promises.
I have another looming that I’ve been running from keeping since I started.
I’m looking forward to not feeling this way.
I’m looking forward to feeling.
I’m looking forward.
I’m feeling.
I am.
What do you want, a prize?
I roll my eyes.
I’ve tried to get rid of that snide shoulder rider, but I can’t.
Now, I ignore it. Some days I can’t, and other’s, I don’t want to.
Well, I want to, but I’m so miserable I don’t care to want to.
It’s all so gray, choking fog that obscures the world, yet my eyes can see it all.
you’re so melodramatic, stop being such a baby
It doesn’t like that. Why don’t you like it when the world knows?
Silence.
Why don’t you like it?
They will feel for me what I will not allow, and I hate myself for it.
Why do I hate myself?
Because I can’t feel what I feel?
Because I won’t allow myself to feel it?
Because I’m not allowed to feel?
as if you are allowed to feel
I grew up in a different world, and nothing in front of me seems real.
Realities at war with each other, and I don’t know how to deal.
What do I want and what do I need?
How can I be so hurt if I don’t bleed?
I’m so irritable, and I am not, by nature, irritable.
Wow. I’m excruciatingly irritable.
How appalling.
I’m looking forward to not feeling like this.
Someday I know I won’t feel this way, and I won’t really know what it’s like to feel this way.
It’s pretty shit.
It’s temporary though, and I’ll get there.
One step at a time.
I’m looking forward.
