As I got ready for bed, I was playing around Facebook. I posted an old picture of me as a blonde. Check out my About Me Page: I am clearly not blonde. I was feeling nostalgic for circa 2009. I guess as I got ready to actually sleep, I found that I couldn’t. More nostalgic than ever, I guess. And now just realizing that I may just be plagued with a writer’s mind. Why is it that my most intense thoughts come late at night? Why do I not trust my self to remember them in the morning at a more post-appropriate hour? I am SO NOT a night person. However, I am compelled to write now. I keep hearing “don’t write it later, censored by a good night’s sleep and a will to kindly protect those who crushed me”…So I trudge on.
Instead of counting sheep tonight, I found myself counting all the past relationships (female friends, male friends, boyfriends, husband, girl I mentored) that were so toxic for me that I had to leave them in the past. Leaving those relationships behind , as venomous to my spirit as they were, were some of my most difficult and turbulent moments in the last 5-6 years. The most interesting thing is that the memories are coming back into my thoughts at a time where I am developing a very nice healthy relationship. It’s as if I am setting out to sabotage myself with still-too-vivid memories of disappointment, betrayal, distrust, sadness, perpetual anxiety, and loss. Basically a Pandora’s box of misery. Why, oh why? Why are they coming to the surface now? I have a really awesome thing going here.
What.Am.I.Doing.To.Myself? I would almost think if I was some psychologist, that I just suffer from low self-esteem, that perhaps I don’t know how to deal with a great thing when it comes, perpetually destined to think: “do I deserve this?”. Maybe the damage is done. The horrid years of being bullied/harrassed/perpetually teased and no way back. How would I know smooth sailing if the sailboat’s boom hit me in the face? I wouldn’t. Or at least I haven’t. That needs to change. Now. What I can tell you, after quite a few years of self discovery, is that I know that I, do in fact, deserve good and amazing things. I know my diet and exercise achievements, my acquisition of French as a foreign language, and blogging are a great start. A healthy relationship is here. It is my job not to royally fuck it up.
So I am learning. Learning from a very good guy that there can be life with out drama, anxiety, sabotage, frequently broken hearts or abundant tears. Why in Hell did it take me so damn long? I seriously hope you are not planning on telling me that perhaps I wasn’t ready for it. Yet, I would probably end up agreeing with you in the end. My life could potentially and finally be so much better than it was 5-7 years ago. I am starting to feel great and if I don’t watch out, I am going to turn into my worst enemy and really mess up a fantastic thing.
Be your own advocate. Be your own support system and accept the wisdom of your friends around you. Sometimes, if you are really lucky, they know you pretty damn well. I guess I have been blessed this whole time, after all!
And, yes, you ARE worth it. You ALWAYS were. Don’t fuck it up!