I don’t consider my body to be an old one, but I do think I have an old soul to some extent. I’ve always been a caretaker. To an absolute fault. I have always been willing to allow other people to chip away at my livelihood and suck every ounce of me out of my being. Stupid. I know this. But there is a time in a persons life where reflection becomes key. Actually learning from your mistakes becomes a true value in your life and you recognize that all of your past mistakes were just that. Mistakes. And it’s on you if you continue to tumble down the same path over and over again, always landing in the same thorn patch, but expecting the thorns to get softer over time.
Then reality hits. That’s not how life goes AT ALL. If you live in Texas, the thorns probably get stiffer and the piercings hurt worse every time because the heat just dries up every droplet of moisture they used to hold. The life is sucked out of them and they’re dead inside and only good for one thing. Inflicting pain on you. You can get mad at the thorns at the bottom of the hill every day of your life, but that’s what they are. Thorns. Meant to protect what’s underneath no matter how deep they have to get under your skin.
There’s really no cryptic meaning behind this blog. I guess the fact of the matter is that at this point in my life, I’ve learned the value of an honest and sincere apology. An “I’m sorry” that’s not said flippantly with some underlying motivation behind it. A selfless apology to someone it’s owed to. Not so that they will becomes your BFF again. Not even so they will give you another thought again. But a heartfelt apology given simply because you owe them that.
Here’s the part that sucks about getting to a point in your life where you can swallow your pride and finally give that honest, sincere apology. Sometimes there’s a point of no return. Let’s face it. Life goes on. Period. End of story. It’s like when you’re a kid and you stay home sick from school one day. Your mom takes you to the drug store for meds and you’re shocked that life actually exists when you’re supposed to be sitting in a classroom. When we lose someone, time doesn’t stop ticking no matter how much you want it to. I know that I’ve found myself pretty ticked off at the world for going on after some of the losses in life, but that’s on me. Getting mad at the rest of the world fordoing what they’re supposed to do is just stupid and a total waste of energy. So why even bother?
I’m such a girl. I know how easy it is to get caught up in emotions and what if’s and shoulda, woulda, coulda. It’s all a bunch of BS. It changes nothing. Obsessing over it is nothing more than self-sabotage. It’s pretty amazing what having hit after hit after hit in life can make you open your eyes to see. I see the value in the people that I choose to keep around. I see that the people I choose to block out of my life don’t deserve my time or attention. Making that choice did come with some serious soul searching and, of course, guilt. But I can’t sacrifice my self worth for the sake of praying that other people will finally open their eyes and see who I really believe myself to be.
Needless to say this though process has led to a lot of time alone. That’s good for the soul though, right? The journal I keep has probably saved my life. I’m human. I’ve admitted my darkest thoughts before. I truly believe that sometimes I’m incapable of letting anyone else understand me. But again that’s what life is about. Seeing your flaws, dealing with them in your own head, and making the conscious choice to make the changes necessary in your life to keep the cycle from repeating.
Again, this is just a train of thought I’ve had lately. It’s directed at no one in particular. It’s funny how people read this stuff and have the ego to assume it’s about them. For all I know sometimes they’re right. I’m human and sometimes I fail to connect the dots. And then I get hated on and all the stuff that comes with making someone look in the mirror. Cuz guess what? If I read a blog and someone was talking about a purple haired 6 foot tall clown nosed prostitute, I wouldn’t assume it was me because I can look in the mirror and recognize that none of it fits. But if someone wrote about an insecurely secure 5 foot 5 freckle faced white girl, it might cause me to reflect and relate. It’s like I wrote on my FB page the other day. Idiots are going to be idiots no matter how hard they try to convince you otherwise. Sometimes we are dumb enough to give into the façade and to believe the long string of lies that come out of their mouth. You live and you learn (hopefully) that those POS people aren’t worth your energy. It’s wasted. You might as well go stare at the sun and wait for Elvis to come and do a private concert for you. WASTED. And that whole life is about the journey thing is true. It is about the journey and the things you learn on the way to the destination. But even more importantly it’s even more about what you choose to do with what you learn. Do you ignore it? Do you use it to avoid the same mistakes again? Do you push it aside, expect that it will change over time, and then fall into the same thorn bush again? Life really is too short for that (I’m about to cuss…sorry) COMPLETE AND TOTAL BULLS**T! Take it from someone who feels like crap every day now because of my stupid surgery. I’ve never felt great, but I’ve never in my life gone to bed feeling like this for months on end before. It’s going to be this way for a while. That’s the reality of it. So what do I do with that? Do I go to bed earlier so that maybe I will be asleep before the worst of it hits? No because I’m not that smart. But here’’s a little peek inside of what’s left of my brain.
I sit in my bed and feel like crap. I ache. I want to throw up. My head hurts. I’m dizzy. It just effing sucks. I could give into the here and now and say screw this…I’m supposed to accept feeling this way for up to a year after the surgery? I don’t have the energy for that. If I’m being totally honest, I don’t have the energy for that. It’s been really hard for me to put off the simplest things so that I don’t kill myself in this recovery. I want to be able to do a 5K and not get winded or tired. But as it is now, I can’t keep enough food down to even get up and down my stairs without getting winded and tired. I have to stop midway up every single time because that’s the stare of my body. Now what? I will tell you now what. I sit and I think about the times when I was happy. When I was working out every single day and felt like more than this tub of goo. I tell myself that those days are not gone and I use that as something to look forward to. It’s the small things in life and the value that you put on them that can really make or break your spirit in the end. I’d be lying if I said that my spirit was all here because it’s not. I’m feeling defeated beyond anything I think I deserve. And I keep telling myself that good things are coming because I am a good person. When I have the energy for it, my heart is full of give a sh*t. The day will come when I can get back to the path I know is meant for me, but for now I’ve just had to take a little detour. And I truly believe that even though I had given myself a deadline for making big changes in my life…and that day has come and gone and I’m still right here…that things are working out the way they are supposed to. In the end I will look back on my journey and feel confident that I took it the best way I knew how. And maybe even showed and help a few others find their path along the way. That’s a pretty perfect destination, don’t you think??