After completing the recent blogging challenge I thought I’d coped quite well given the subject matter and my own struggle with homelessness, but as I’d kept quite a tight lid on this area of my life, writing about it each day, just confirmed to me just how far I’d fallen.
All this week my thought have turned to deep introspection, about my life and what motivates me, well it was more than introspection it was a full on brutal assault on my life up to this point, and it wasn’t pretty, and of course my thoughts became obsessive, constantly picking over old scabs, looking for answers, and I found none.
I’ve been tearful, panicky, short-tempered, quiet, overly loud, finding fault where there is none, I’ve hardly slept, ate for Britain and still feel as though the glass is less than half full, when asked why I was so up and down I opened my mouth to explain and all the old fears came back about being judged, and being seen as someone who cannot manage their life.
I didn’t tell of course what was actually bothering I just made up an excuse, then became angry with myself for not being brave enough to be honest about my homeless status, but it was more than that, I’ve lost some of my confidence again, and without that anchor I’m finding it hard to “woman up” I’m just so very tired of putting on a brave face, every time I face challenges in my life I seem to fail or at least not act quickly enough to forestall events that seem to over take me.
I used to have the courage of a lion, and now just whimper like a kitten and that makes me feel so impotent, that it makes me want to crawl back into that dark space, that held me hostage for so long, I fear that perhaps deep down I don’t want to change, as me feet are seemingly made of cement, my lack of courage keeping me prisoner.
I’m also tired of daily affirmations that today will be the day that change happens , and why I can’t just take the baby steps required to move forward I did it before, what is stopping me now, well I know the answer I’m stopping me, I’m to blame, but emotionally pummeling myself won’t help even though it gives me a strange sense of satisfaction to feel that spark of pain, that lets me know I’m still alive, but I take no real comfort in that.
So they’re just emotions, we can’t always live with them or without them, I think I just have to learn to accept them and find a way to factor them into my life, and try to make sense of them as I go along, however every time I open Pandora’s Box, everything seems to be swirling down the giant plug hole at the bottom and I can never shut the lid in time to stop it.