Please Forgive Yourself For All The Versions You Couldn't Become. Forgive Yourself For The Wrong Things

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Seeking control isn’t inherently bad.

I am enjoying the silence, the deliberate choices to filter out the noise that isn’t contributing to a semblance of peace. I decide what to read, who to converse with, and who to visit. I bought this massive crossword puzzle book for $15 to ponder when my mind starts to wander. It wanders often. No matter how many times I reassure myself that I need to prioritize my own mental health so I can better help others, I end up feeling guilty and dismiss my feelings despite the reassurance that these feelings are valid.

I'm nowhere close to having processed my own past. My therapist has talked of retirement within the next year and a half or so, which has kicked off worries of what it will mean to try finding a new therapist, establishing rapport and trust, and doing this all over again. That’s tough to do, even if it could lead to feeling more comfortable talking about my life up until this point. The prospect of searching for a new therapist I can vibe with is worrisome. Can I do without? I don’t know. I told my grandma as much.

Tomorrow hasn’t even arrived and I dread visiting with extended family members I haven’t bothered talking to in probably close to a decade over the comments they made about my mom and I, not to mention their shitty treatment. My mom tried to extend an olive branch. Neither of them have changed much. It’ll be in a setting with my grandparents and two other family members who genuinely care about others. Still, this is one reason why I’m not fond of the holidays - too much drama and politicking.

I’d love to be in the spirit of the holiday season. I envy those who can embrace it wholeheartedly without any reservations. They exude joy and excitement, and sometimes it’s enough to spark a flicker of happiness. The light goes out when I’m reminded of how busy work has become and how this is likely the new norm. There is no promise of help. We fight for scraps. There are days where I don’t have the energy or the emotional capacity to persuade myself that this has a positive impact even if I can’t see it in the moment.

I couldn’t focus long enough to read tonight. All I want is to rest and to find a path to taking better care of myself instead of languishing like this. It has to get better.

Jess Sharp

and is your shame helpful? is it inspiring goodness and change? or is it keeping you frozen in time unable to move on and be everything you have expanded to be?

toastedbyeli

oh, i am finally old enough to know why my parents took so long to grab their coats. why they would ask us to get ready to go only to sit down for another round of coffee. what would i tell myself, at 10 years old? it’s okay. sit down with them too. take in the extra hour with your friend and her family. when you get home, write down every moment in your diary. one day you will be older and you will be waving goodbye to your best friend, and you will turn the key to start your beat up little car engine, and you will look back over your shoulder. her hair will be blowing in the wind and she will be beautiful and you will be, for a moment, struck by all of it. what you will feel is so wide and nameless that it will engulf you. and you will think of being 14 and kicking her under the table in math every time you wanted to whisper something behind the teacher’s back. you will think about how long the days felt, and how you could hold her hand whenever you wished, but you didn’t. and you will think about all of the people you could have lingered with. and you will wish, more than you have ever felt a wish, that the universe just gave you that - more time to linger. more time to say - i love you. i know i need to leave, but i don’t want to leave you. and when i go, i am leaving a piece of my heart that lingers too. 

one more round of coffee. the days are so short, and you are so lovely.

you will live and you will say the wrong things and make mistakes and people will love you anyways.