I realized today that I am a badly broken and damaged individual, and it has nothing to do with cancer. I haven’t seen that as clearly as I have today.
It is not something I want to be.
I’m going to take steps to fix that and right my wrongs. It is going to take time, though, and as an action-oriented individual, this pains me. I want it to be fixed now. I want to be proactive now. I want that serenity…now.
But that’s not the way mending broken things works. It takes time, it takes (considerable) effort, and it takes courage (not something I have a lot of it, it would seem).
I had another realization this morning, shortly after making a stupid mistake (and probably a harmful one), while listening to an Al-Anon speaker. The realization is that I’ve been searching for validation my whole adult life. I grew up without it, things happened, and the lack of validation piled up like a mountain. And if you know me, you know I don’t like climbing, or even being outside. That mountain seemed insurmountable and was likely too much for me to bear, so I sought that in relationships. I wanted someone to tell me that I was lovable, that I was worthy, and that I was truly okay. I wanted them to shoulder that burden because I was too exhausted and mentally incapable of doing it myself.
Gods. That’s a lot.
I don’t understand yet why it’s not enough to hear myself say those words “you are kind, you are intelligent, you are beautiful”, but it’s not. I want to know why, and I am going to work on that. Part of me believes it, but part of me is not enough. All of me needs to take that on and shoulder that weight so that it’s never placed on someone else. That is unfair. I see that. All of my problems are my own and only I am responsible for fixing them. I hope that, over time, I can learn to take only the responsibility that is mine, because that’s the only thing I can do. I want to figure out who I am, as opposed to relying on someone else to do it for me.
Naming emotions and feeling them is difficult for me. But I guess what I feel now is fear. Fear of being alone- the fear of being alone with myself. I’ve done a masterful job of escaping that these last few years, but I can’t run any longer. It looks like it’s going to happen whether I like it or not. Perhaps over time, I will learn to like who I am. So you’re right and I am so very sorry. But this is probably a gift in disguise. I suppose it’s only a gift if I see it that way, and I do.
I fucking hate getting dirty and messy and sweaty, but it’s time to climb this mountain.