Category Archives: Self Realization

27

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I haven’t written in forever SORRY. Friday was my birthday and man am I creeping up in age. I get people all the time who are like “you’re ONLY 27”, but they’re just not understanding how I feel about this. I’m 27 and I don’t have much to show for it in my mind.

Yes, I have a gorgeous daughter and a loving boyfriend. Yes, I have a good job. Yes, I haven’t died yet. Okay. When I was 16 I had a plan, a check list, an idea of where I would be at the glorious age of 27.

  1. Master’s in Psychology degree achieved, going for my doctorate. I was on the right track at 18 when I was taking SO many units in college and into my early twenties but I WILL finish this dream. Even if I have to attend college while my child is in college.
  2. Buy my own house, without a partner. All by myself. I had a house but I let HIM keep it.
  3. Find the love of my life. Which I did just in the nick of time.
  4. I know this one seems a bit petty but I really wanted to have that cookie cutter marriage and one child. ONE CHILD ACHIEVED AND IT’S AWESOME! But no marriage. Imagine if I would have married him? Ew.
  5. I would have traveled all of Europe and Australia by now.
  6. Attend more than 100 concerts (including festivals).
  7. Experience the Fado houses in Portugal.
  8. Attend a World Cup Match
  9. Start a blog (I did it! Not a successful one, but I wanted to find a healthier outlet)
  10. Be happy. Genuinely happy. You see I have a lot to be thankful for and a lot in my life to be happy about, don’t get me wrong. But there is so much that I need to change to make me genuinely 100% happy. Getting there.

 

The thing about this list is, I was young and stupid. Nothing ever goes as planned in life, and that’s okay as long as you GET IT DONE EVENTUALLY. Real life shit held me back. Not laziness, not a lack of motivation, but situations that I could and could not control. Looking back at this I’m realizing that I gave myself very little time to conquer the world and I’ve been beating myself up for it for years now. I need to cut myself a little slack, but that’s hard to do. I’m absolutely my worst critic and I don’t see that ever changing. Little by little I’m accomplishing these things and my list keeps growing. I AM grateful, I love my life, I LOVE my daughter, I love my partner, I love my true friends, but I’m having a hard time loving myself right now for multiple reasons. It makes things complicated when you don’t fully love yourself, I seriously mean that. I have to get back on track. I used to love myself and along the way I just got lost. Some days are better than others, some days I wake up and think – I wouldn’t want to be anybody else – and other days I just want to tear myself apart. I have to remind myself to be positive. Happy birthday to me and yay for self realization.

I’m at a stand still.

I need to move. Get it going, get it together.

Go.

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Self Destruction

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Why are people so self destructive? I don’t mean physically, really, I mean mentally. We often times are the creators of our own drama. So much is created inside of our heads, mostly because we care too much about others and we dwell too much on situations. Every day I come across conversations, people venting about their lives and situations. Too often do I hear women go on and on about a million ways their significant other is probably cheating on them. Too often do hear people talk about how horrible their lives are and how much better things would be if this or that just happened.

I’m guilty of this. My life would be easier if I won the lottery. My life would be easier if my ex would just drop dead. My life would be easier if people would just stop being assholes.

We sit here and are so inside of our heads, we just go on and on until we’ve driven ourselves crazy. Why do we do this? The world is crazy enough without us having to augment issues in our minds. Your boyfriend is cheating on you? Maybe? No? Perhaps? You will find out when the times comes, and if that time ever does come, then worry. Don’t just worry, leave the piece of shit. If you feel your life is so horrible, please take a moment and figure out what you can do to make it better. Now, as I’m typing this I’m figuring out ways to do this myself because I have a lot of improvements to make personally. I’m very self aware. I’m not going to give you the same advice everyone else does because it’s all shit.

“Your life is tough but think of Syria”.

“Your life is tough but think of Africa”.

“Your life is tough but think of the Holocaust”.

Shut the hell up.

Yes, there are many things that occur and have occurred in the world much worse than going bankrupt, losing your car, divorce, your children hating you and so on. Sure. That doesn’t make these problems any less real to YOU. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still be upset about your situation. That DOES mean you should be proactive, because you do have control over your life. You have control of who you surround yourself with. You have control over who you let affect your emotions, your well being, YOUR SANITY. Don’t let situations make you feel like your LIFE is a mess, don’t let people have the power to hurt you. Especially selfish people, because they don’t care about you. Hell, they don’t even think about you because they’re so busy thinking about themselves.

I can feel my sanity slipping because of these people, why have I allowed this?

Why have you allowed this?

The Urge

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She had been living her life in a daze, twisting and turning with the motions as if in a a black sea of doubt and failure. She had people who claimed to love her, she had a beautiful daughter, and a decent job. She attempted to consume her misery by focusing on others and their happiness, but still, something was missing. She worked hours upon hours only to find no gratitude or growth in her path, but that was okay, because at least she had a job. She wasn’t homeless, yet. She wasn’t hopeless, yet.

She found someone who could lift her spirits, much like her daughter had been able to do, since birth. Then she found something different inside of her, something she couldn’t explain. Always analyzing, always fearful, doubtful, creating issues out of nothing. Creating issues out of something. So where does this leave her? Is it better to over analyze moments, actions, or lack there of…Or is it better to assume everything is fine until it blows up in her face? Again.

She could feel herself unraveling, coming undone. She was changing before her eyes, no longer caring about anyone else but her daughter. She didn’t care about what her parents thought, or siblings, or family…In fact she was one comment away from putting them all in their place. Holding up a mirror so they can see themselves, so they can realize how fucked up they are. So fucked up that anytime they dared to pinpoint her faults, she just laughed.

One morning, she woke up and began her day as she usually did. Convincing herself that it would be a better day, hiding her fears and insecurities behind makeup as she always has. Brushing her hair while in deep thought, planning out her day. She looks at her daughter, asleep and so peaceful, remembering a happier time and hoping her daughter never has to suffer. Every time she looks at her, her eyes swell up with tears; sometimes from sadness, others from joy and admiration. She looks away and begins to dress.

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and looks away, never being able to make eye contact for reasons she still can’t seem to unfold. She decides that maybe that’s the problem, what is she so scared of? And then she looked in the mirror, staring deeply into her own eyes.

Lost.

Where are you? Where are you? She searches. She closes her eyes and then opens them again. Ah…There. There are you are. Hi. It’s been a while.

The Tank

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I picked up my daughter after work yesterday, like any other day. Her father called to speak with her from prison, which I allow, and they have exactly fifteen minutes to talk. I feel relieved that he called during our thirty minute commute back home because I needed a moment to myself to get over the crappy day I had; I always need a moment like this if I’ve had a bad day to make sure my attitude is positive around Victoria. Once finished, Victoria hands over the phone and I ask her about her day, as usual. We talk about the Thanksgiving lunch they had in class and she tells me all that she’s learned about the Pilgrims and Indians. I smile and tell her how much I love her. I always feel the need to reassure her, to make sure she understands that I will never leave her side…

“I love you…So, so much Victoria. I’m so proud of you honey.”

“I love you too Mãe. Thanks.”

“You’re my absolute best friend.”

“Mãe, you can’t be…You’re my mom.”

“What?! Sure I can!! I love you thiiiisssssss much!” *stretches arm out*

“Wooooow that’s a lot! Well I love you thiiiiiisssssssssss much more!” *extends both arms out* *pauses for a minute* “Actually…No.”

“Hmm…?”

“Actually Mommy…I have a tank!”

“I don’t understand amor.”

“Yeah. I have a tank inside of me. Actually Mãe, we all have tanks inside of us. I fill up my tank with love. Love for you, love for Avó, love for Avô, love for Pae and Titias and everyone!”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yes! But my tank is mostly full of love for you mom. You’re my favorite mommy! But sometimes, my tank feels empty. Like when daddy doesn’t come and see me. But then! Then mommy comes and fills it up again! You’re a good tank filler mom.”

“Honey, daddy will see you soon. He loves you so much, he always wants to see you.”

“Yeah…Well…I know. It’s okay, I have you right? Always?”

“Yes, honey, always.”

“See! Mãe, do I fill up your tank?”

“As long as I have you, my tank is never empty”

She moved on to a different topic, as she normally takes control of our conversations. For some reason I couldn’t shake our previous conversation, I wondered where she got that from, or if she made it up on her own. A tank. My six year old has a better concept of how love works than most people, and how it affects us. We all have tanks that can be emptied and filled every day, depending on the circumstance. Some situations empty us, and others fill us, and some people do the same. We all have one, but is it empty? Full? Functioning? Cracked? Leaking? Who fills it? Who do we allow to empty it? Are we in control of this? I spent years with an empty tank not realizing that my “tank filler” was always there, staring up at me. Sitting there in all of her youth…And oddly, all of her wisdom. This little person teaches me something new every day.

I think what I would like to teach her down the line is that we shouldn’t rely on anyone to fill our tank…We should be able to fill that ourselves; everyone else is just the “top off”. How could I, when she’s the only one who fills my tank to the brim? Overflowing, making a beautiful mess inside me of emotions.

Is your tank full?

Me, Myself, and That One Crazy Bitch

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I’ll be the first to say it…I’m fucking nuts.

I talk too much. I laugh too much. I’m too loud. I’m obnoxious. I confuse myself. I confuse others. I avoid confrontation. I like to give affection and receive it. I’m laid back. I like to have fun. Sometimes I like to drink too much wine at dinner. Sometimes I like to sit at home and read. I love being around my daughter. I love being around my boyfriend. I love being around my family. I love to have fun and sing out of tune. I love hugging and being held. I mask my sadness with a smile and I hide my lack of self esteem with a head held high and a confident strut.

But sometimes….Sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I’ll call you out. Sometimes I’ll sit quietly, inside of my head. Sometimes things will bother me that shouldn’t bother me. Sometimes I cry uncontrollably in the shower, take a deep breath, and compose myself before going to work. Sometimes I want to give advice, other times I regret opening my mouth. Sometimes I don’t want to have a beer. Sometimes I don’t want to go out. Sometimes I don’t want to be surrounded by people. Sometimes I get social anxiety and find it hard to breathe in a crowd. Sometimes I don’t want to make decisions. Sometimes I don’t want to burden others with my shit. Sometimes I don’t want to be around anyone at all, I just want to sit by myself and not worry about anything or anyone. Just sit. At the beach, or in my home or at a park or anywhere. Sometimes I nag and complain and let small things hurt my feelings. Sometimes I watch the news and it ruins my entire day and I’ll take it out on people because the world is shit these days.

I’m sensitive. My feelings get hurt and I won’t always say it. I work through things alone and get over them. This is hard for people to understand because usually I’m so open about how I feel and about my thoughts. I am someone who has different sides to her, someone who isn’t always the same and who doesn’t always react to things in the same manner. I’m complicated, sentimental, lovable, honest, loyal, decent, generous, likable, and lonely. My personality is not split; it’s shredded. I love hard and then second guess myself twenty times a day because I’m scared. Of myself mostly. I ruin things without realizing it, I hurt people’s feelings unintentionally and then I get upset when they’re upset. I expect to be understood, I expect people to read my mind and know what’s wrong and then just leave me alone. Sometimes I don’t want people to ask me what’s wrong, let me stew in my own dramatic bullshit. I don’t like depending on others to make me feel better or to hear me out because I’m not used to it. I don’t want to vent and get the “oh wow I totally understand” *head nod* response I’ve been given in the past.

I’m irrational, and sometimes someone just needs to tell me that I’m being ridiculous and smack me upside the head. Or tell me that my thoughts aren’t as crazy as I feel they are, and hold me. I don’t like to cry in front of people and when I do sometimes I want to lock myself in a closet until the embarrassment and shame of being so weak washes away.

Crazy.

Irrational.

Sane.

Emotional.

Sensitive.

Stupid.

Intelligent.

Crazy.

Crazy.

Crazy.