I’m dragging myself into a humble place of humility to write this. Wine helps.
There isn’t one thing that any of us can go through in life without having an urge to help other people that have been or are currently going through the same thing. It’s basic human instinct. Call it a connection. I know that I’m not the only one that comes out full speed of a shit storm and wants to scream and shout to everyone that it WILL ACTUALLY BE OK. Look at me over here I made it…I’m ok…finally.
I know what it feels like to be sad. Like really sad. Like a 10 lb bag of nails is on your back every.single.day. To have the person you feel closest to look at you while you’re crying and tell you to stop, or to stop making them feel like a villain, when all you are doing is expressing basic human emotion. I know what it’s like to be yelled at for expressing yourself…kindly. I know what it’s like to have every single thing turned back on you, and even be the one apologizing for it. I know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep, and 24 hours later try to proceed in life as normal, even though it’s so far from that. I know what it’s like to hate the person you’ve become because of anxiety but not know how to stop it. I went to a local psychiatrist for meds, and halfway through the meeting I got up and left. I was embarrassed to be taking a medication which for me was to numb what was simply a situation that I was allowing myself to be in. I was better than that.
I left one day, and my world changed. On top of the OMG WHAT DO I DO NOW…was a moment of peace. A peace for me, and my children. It’s hard to leave, it’s hard to not care what people think, what people say, and what is right/wrong and whatever…but you can leave. I believed and still do that people can change, and I ultimately want to believe that no one on this planet would hurt someone intentionally, but we’re broken. Some more than others, and some coming out stronger, and some allowing their pain to cause destruction in the lives of those they touch. Either way, you are not here to be a target for someone that isn’t dealing with their own pain.
I care what people think, and I wish I didn’t…but I also care about my sanity, because I have children that call me Mom every day (at least 1,000 times but who’s counting)…and I’ll be damned if they watch me get broken down so far that I don’t get up. I’m up, and they’ll get up when life hits them as adults with things they didn’t expect because they’ve seen it done. Unfortunately for some, It’s ongoing, because if you get out, you’re still the one blamed, your still always wrong, and you’re still portrayed to their world, the awful person you felt like you were by how you were treated. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt, it freaking hurts a lot, but you just have to tell yourself that it’s some weird test of your strength because you’re still here, you’re still here. It matters.
I’m going to turn this around though for a second. I own my choices, even the ones that I hate. I’m an adult and I make my own decisions, so ultimately I have consequences for things I’ve allowed, and that’s ok. I’m not going to start a campaign about how awful certain people are, because it doesn’t really do anyone any good. I own things I allowed for too long.
“You can’t skip chapters, that’s not how life works.”
Sure we can look back at things and in the moment say we wish it never happened, and sometimes that may actually be the case. Abuse is real.
…but If we don’t experience the chapters that suck, we don’t experience the learning from it. The change of attitude, the change of world view, the way we view others…whatever, and the ability to accept true happiness. I know my small voice in the world means next to nothing, but I would not be sitting here at my small desk listening to Andre Day and writing these words if the path I took hadn’t existed. I wouldn’t have this urge to tell people that it gets better, you deserve more, and there’s not a damn person in this world that should be given enough power to take your sense of self.
Keep doing your damn best, doing what’s best for your kids if you have them, and understand that there isn’t an opinion about you on this PLANET that matters except for your own and your children’s. Period.
We’ve probably all been through some type of shit….but are you still here? You’re still f*cking here.
The grass isn’t always greener, but it’s ALWAYS greener when you walk away from what’s hurting you…and there’s underground sprinklers.
xo - W