I'm not always a human, but when I am I fuck everything up entirely. Mostly my own well being.
My friend Amanda told me a few months ago that my blog and I are the one stop shop of the human condition. We laughed really hard about it at the time, but I'm not sure how I feel about it.
She said that my blog should be a talk show. I said that we could call it "I Already Did The Dumb Thing". It would be entirely about the day to day stupid shit that people do that others can completely relate to.
Me. I am people.
I experience emotions like a crash test dummy and I really need to learn how to stop. The way that I cry at the slightest amount of sap leaves me feeling like I'm doing happiness wrong. I've built more relationships with people by being open about my struggles than I ever could have pretending that I had it all together.
So after the past two weeks that I've had, I'm now experiencing something called:
Has My Mental Health Actually Improved Or Is This A Manic Episode: The Musical
Seriously....So much crying....So many feelings.....
I think someone should just post their therapist's advice on Twitter so I don't have to go.
I love Sam. I feel like I'm holding a butterfly. One wrong move, and that's it. He matters. I'm terrified about this notion. I have come to realize that I am programmed to believe that I am always going to get the worst in everyone; even though they've given me no reason not to trust them. I keep finding myself in an emotional deer stand waiting for the fuckening to start. I know, without a doubt, that if something were to happen - or not happen - it's going to hurt in a place I don't like to acknowledge that I have.
And yet here I am....
Note to self: LISTEN and SILENT are spelled with the same seven letters, take that as a sign to shut the fuck up and pay attention.
Since childhood I've relived every scenario in my brain; this type of constant rewinding and analyzing is how I come to most of my conclusions and things to write about. I have also taught myself that the idea of forgiveness is bullshit. Deal with something, take it for what it is, and move on. Or like in my family, deal with it but not dealing with it at all. So naturally, it had become easy for me to consider this thought process to be a good thing to do - except the more I did it, the harder it became for me to separate the positive uses and the destructive.
To this day, I would rather roll around naked on a floor covered in Legos than give up on a scenario that I haven't beaten to death in the rock tumbler of my brain.
The first experience I recall having a full blown anxiety attack was in first grade. I had spent all of Kindergarten learning how to spell my name, and looking at my work folder, my teacher had spelled my last name incorrectly. M-a-c-Q-u-i-r-e. And I proceeded to lose it. It ruined my confidence so much that my dad had to pull out his driver's license and prove to me the correct spelling of our last name. There were days when I would secretly get into his wallet in the middle of the night just to double check that it hadn't changed so I could get some sleep.
Rumination will completely ruin your progression if you allow it to. And there is no greater progression than forgiveness; beginning with yourself. I've learned that if you're going to stay on the path of self-improvement, there's no greater hindrance to your progression than self-inflicted pain. I have got to stop this shit. Protected sanity is more important than protected sex. I'm learning - slowly, yet not really.
Until I met Sam and something very strange clicked on in my brain that made me want him around, I have not had a man in my bed that I cared about since 2016. I say that, because I have had a couple of meaningless one night stands, but nobody that I was scared to lose. I was sleeping with someone for 3 years and he has only been to my house, briefly, twice. I was thinking about this in great depth the other day and then something dawned on me. I gave a shit. I was so afraid of losing him that I didn't let him close to me. I was dating another person for a year that, while I was close to him, was just a glorified best-friendship with someone who didn't touch me. And I pretended that it was fine. But shortly before we broke up he took the one thing that I said to him during the lowest point in my existence and used it against me. "You asked me if I knew up front how stressful dating you would be, if I would have still chosen to date you. Honestly, no. I wouldn't have." How devastating was that moment? The truth is, I deserve the same energy and effort that I release even when I feel like a complete dumpster fire - which is most of the time. And I'm done with half-assed anything.
But this time, honestly my life has been filled with all the things I somehow convinced myself that I would never have. I deserve someone who wants to know about me. It may sound silly, but I don't want to screw around with people who never ask what my favorite color is or if I ate today. I can't wait for the next night that I get to roll over and see him peacefully sleeping in my bed that I was once fine with sleeping alone in. The look on his face he gets when he is about to tell me he loves me makes my brain completely give up on the idea it was working on. I can't wait to see where this life takes us. He excites me.
I don't know why I do the stupid shit I do; mostly to myself. I have to treat every relationship like a crime scene and make sure that I collect all the memories as evidence that it failed for a reason to make sure that it's really done. To make sure that there really is no sign of life left in the space I made for it in the back of my heart that is caving in on itself.
We all hang onto something we know we're better off letting go of. It's like we're scared of letting go. Like we're scared to lose what we don't even really have. Some of us (*cough, begrudgingly raises hand) say we'd rather have something than absolutely nothing. The truth is, to have something halfway is much harder than letting go.
And I for one, am done trying to swan dive down anyone's throat. My ass is too big to fit.
Pep talk for the day:
Girl, you can't take a leap of faith when you've got a death grip in the tightrope you're used to walking on.
Just jump. You'll always get back up.
~ Cynicallovebird
9/2/19 @ 10:26 am
