Friday, April 8, 2011
Life is a Beautiful Struggle
Some old issues got a spot of attention over the weekend,
and of course I was in just the 'right' state of mind to
run with it.
I know better than to let such things even get started,
but sometimes they seem almost to have a mind of their
I did the mental discussing for a bit, disallowing that I
was actually furthering my imagined dilemma rather
than dissipating it. By the time I knew I was obsessing,
I was in it to win it.
So, I journaled and meditated to get my right thinking
going. I read some great books (of which I always keep
a supply on hand.) I countered my typical unhealthy
thinking with aggressive alternative thoughts.
I did yard work. I walked laps. I did housework.
But when your own mind is out to get you, the
power to successfully retreat or become sufficiently
distracted is dampened.
I called every (helpful) person I know to talk it out.
(Yeah, it is a short list.)
I got myself worked into such a fit at one point
when I started listening to the lies and disbelieving
my own ability, and that self-pity and self-sabotaging
gave me the first true 'desire' to drink that I have had
in several weeks. I just felt so insane and unable to
squelch it, and for a minute, drinking became the only
means of quieting the thoughts.
But I know I am worth more than that.
Finally, as it often does, I made way through it.
Sometimes it's just a matter of waiting out the
insanity with sufficient resolve. Choices. Hard, scary,
personal work and choice.
I know that no one else's actions or inaction are worth
hurting myself over. I know that I have to care about self
in the face of no one else on the planet doing so. I must
not give in to a complacent heart or mind, no matter
how low feelings seem to be. Feelings pass, but my
progress and serenity are hard to come by.
Being so horribly sick this last week, fighting the
weekend blahs, having old resentments rear their ugly
head, loneliness, etc.; it all forms a beautiful cocktail of
misery and discontent.
But I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to
be in that awful place. And I will fight tooth and nail
to do what I have to to ensure my footing.
I'm okay with not having all the answers.
I'm good with having bad days as part of the parcel.
I'm fine with being in the midst of 'finding myself.'
An admission of searching, as opposed to resolutely
'knowing', may be the smartest move I ever made.