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??
