One of those days. The last week, two weeks, I’m not sure, has been SO up and down. So much good stuff, and yet, this sneaking disconnection growing inside me.
Do you ever get the feeling you have no idea who you are?
I’ve been oscillating in and out of this feeling, while really trying to be stern with myself and force gratitude and pray, pray, pray and ‘be still’ and ‘take action’ and do all the things I know to do.
But honestly, sometimes I just don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Four years, five months I have not touched a drop of alcohol or a drug. I barely take freaking Panadol. I even quit smoking over a year ago. I do meetings, have a sponsor, try to serve others, pray, attempt to love myself, exercise, but honestly, sometimes I feel like I’m swimming in this deep well of sadness for no reason that is apparent to me.
I had a nap today and was pissed off that I woke up. No, not in that way. I don’t want to sleep forever, it was just that I felt the heavy crush of my thinking as soon as I came to, and I was like, fuck.
Tomorrow I’ll be bouncing around. Laughing, loving, wanting to share that.
I am aware that I feel happy like I feel sad – a lot. Maybe everything is in balance but I just forget during the sad times.
But today, for a reason that I am not privy to, the only thing that is making me feel anything good, is writing this. And I’m not sure I’ll publish it. It will make my Mum sad. (Don’t be sad, Mum, I’m okay, I just need to express myself to feel better).
Maybe it’s all the years of pretending to someone else. Someone tougher, more in control. I still get emails from old friends saying, I had no idea. You seemed so… together.
So maybe this… this unravelling, is a by-product of all the pretending and covering up. I tried so hard to look normal (whatever that is) for so long, and whilst I’m not sure if this is normal, it’s certainly true.
Sometimes I think, “Am I choosing this? Am I addicted to feeling bad?”
But I think that’s just another way my head tries to make me feel like crap. Like it’s my fault. Like with all the gifts I have in my life, I can’t be happy and that makes me a failure.
One thing I can say is that at least I’m not pretending right now. I can already feel the freedom flowing in, just from that. Not pretending may make those who love me feel uncomfortable, but it makes me feel So. Much. Better.
Maybe that’s it. I get sad, fight it, think it’s wrong to feel like that (no matter how many times I write about how it’s not!) and then disconnect from myself. I always think it’s a disconnection from God, or Source or whatever word I choose to use that day, but maybe it’s not God who I am abandoning, but myself.
Judging myself a failure for being fragile. For wanting more. For having more questions than answers.
Maybe I just needed to write this.