Writing Therapy

in #blog5 years ago

Greetings, Fellow Steemians!

I'm here today writing to you after several months... It's not like I didn't miss Steem, assuredly I sat around every day longing to write, but never self-motivating to the point of actually making a post. I'd like to say I never gained the courage, but courage isn't something we inherently posses. Courage is built like any other characteristic worth earning.
Admittedly, I have been failing to put thoughtful effort into most areas of my life lately. I'm guilty of being the ultimate fuck-over to myself. I'm here today because I just need to write. I've been reflecting and thinking, and thinking and reflecting... but not doing anything about it!!
It's tough to know where to start...

What I do know is that I deserve the therapy and relief that comes with just type-vomiting onto this page.
I know I deserve to begin building a following of people that I can actually relate with, where we mutually benefit each other's lives with meaningful, insightful and valuable content using our God-given talents and hard-earned skills.
And I know I deserve to follow those beautiful people that add the same, or more, value to my feed.
What I don't deserve is the the self loathing that comes after a day or night of drinking.
What I don't deserve is the guilt that follows when I've broken a fast from the poison I so compulsively feed my body. What I don't deserve is an empty bank account drained by improper financial planning, budgeting, or consumption.

I've only to go back and reflect on the decisions I've made that lead up to this new low that's come about...

My whole life, people have told me about my natural beauty, generosity, caring nature, ability, and willingness to go above and beyond. This was all good and well, and I instinctively enjoyed hearing how awesome of a person I was, thinking that the minimal effort was giving the maximum payout for my public image.
However, as the years passed, I became complacent in these ways. Not to say that I became any less of a good person, but I stopped going that extra mile... Or I should say that I stopped trying at all, and just went about like a robot, smiling when necessary and expecting that to "do the trick".
All of these compliments, over the years, set in my mind that I was as good as anyone would ever need to be. I got comfortable with myself and stopped trying to improve. This, I think now, is where the disease set in. The compliments and comments on my character faded at such a slow rate that I failed to notice the infrequency and eventual and total cessation of comments of this nature.
I barely noticed my own frequency and vibration diminish into the numb flat-line of a pretty face but ugly personality. Everything I thought I was began to disappear, and I became a nothingness that only knew consumption. Instead of being a bright light, or doing what was right, or that girl that went the extra mile, I started to fade into the background.

To be honest, it was nice.

Being in the spotlight for the better part of my life was exhausting, and having a break from being noticed solely for looks was relieving. Although the time spent in the shadows was very short, (maybe a year or so compared to thee 10+ years I spent "trying") that one year was all it took to slip softly into the silky blanket of depression.
My depression was a disease that not only deteriorated both the brightness of my mind, but also the quality of life of those surrounding and supporting me.
It seeped into every corner of my identity, and into my close circle.
Depression can be contagious.It didn't spread as depression, it spread as insecurity, as desperate attempts to make a friend whole again, it spread as a mother's anxiety that her daughter may never see joy again.
Depression spread as financial drain and financial gain.
A sickness that, even after we know it's gone, has grown roots too deep to be pulled up by traditional methods.

Bear with me here...

Say we go with the metaphor that our minds are gardens. Depression for me was the weed that grew roots around the roots of the other flowers and vegetables in my mind so that everything good had to be uprooted and examined before it could be replanted. It affected even the healthiest of thoughts and behavior patters so much that, upon examination, sometimes the strongest and healthiest habits I had needed to be discarded to avoid incidence of re contamination.
I tried to take the lazy route. Attempting, despite knowing I would fail, yet hoping that I might not, to poison this so- called depression with chemicals like THC, alcohol, and any other mind numbing substance I could get my hands on, excepting hard drugs.

I figured over time the poisons would sink deep into the soil and suffocate the roots of my depression, risking the good sh*t cause I didn't care anyway. We all know this is the silliest and laziest way to try and beat any illness because alcohol and these substances only oxygenate the roots and helped depression grow stronger.
Long story short:

FAILED

What I was forced to do after was a complete rebuild of my mind-garden. I ripped out every living thing from my brain. Stripped it of everything colorful and lively, leaving nothing but lumpy dirt... I then had to go back in, till the soil, add fertilizer, and all things good back in, so that the soil itself became a living organism- a medium that is both alive and an ecosystem that can support the healthiest of habits for the long run. I did not save any of the old.
I went out, and I found new seeds that grew into huge plants, or habits, thought patterns and intentional speech that support who I am, want to be, and the ever forgiving community of people that have kept my infected head alive enough to reach this point of rejuvenation.
How does a person begin to end self- loathing? How does one grow love when they only knew hate?
If you've hung on long enough to get here, God bless you. ❤ I'm talking about meditation.

Meditation, along with positive affirmations, a complete reboot of my friends, environment, eating habits, and hygiene routine got me to the point where I'm grateful to be alive every day and living every second to its fullest.

I began this post because I had a thought that maybe everyone was wrong. I see myself as a really not good person. Not saying that I'm bad, but I really have been an awful friend, daughter, girlfriend, etc.
See, this thought came because I met someone who society may see as a bad influence... It's quite the opposite. I see through the outside of him, and, after getting to know him, see the insane amounts of effort he puts into his interactions.
At first, I thought he was perfect.
At first, I thought he couldn't make a mistake.
I know now, he is not perfect, and does in fact make mistakes... For the most part, he is absolutely mind- mindbogglingly incredible, thoughtful and kind. He does what's right when nobody's watching and despite self injury via skateboard, he pours copious amounts of love all over himself and his life, and everything in between. ❤
How does a person be as loving as this?
How does a person stay 10 steps ahead and only do what's right?
How does a person manage to keep their word, to go above and beyond in ways previously unimaginable?

We had a talk the other day. Thank God for that.
I asked him how he learned honesty. He told me his mom taught him to be honest. I wish now I knew how she taught him to be honest... That's the key, I think, is how. I responded to this wonderful man, this lovely man that I was raised by liars.

It's true.

I'd like to think that I'm wrong, that maybe I have the skewed perspective, but I can't see a way around the fact that I was raised by people who lied to me, people who openly and outwardly lied to their own children, parents, friends and bosses, yet STILL expected me to be honest with them and everyone in my life.
I want to go back to the days when I was honest despite my upbringing, when I put effort and intention into who I was and how I treated people. I'm wondering exactly how and where that went wrong and when the first adult lie I told became okay, and how that paved the way for more lies.
What day did I begin to lie to myself? What day did I think that what happened behind the closed doors of even my own mind didn't matter, and what day I stopped loving myself. My heart breaks for the inhuman way I've treated the creatures I thought I loved... .
Lord, help me! How amazing it is to write out my thoughts and feelings, and thank God for the ability to process these thoughts and feelings in a way that all I need do is look out the window and let my fingers mindlessly do some work while I reflect and become better.

This post was not intended for anyone other than me. If you read it, I hope it speaks to you in a way that is beneficial to you, I hope it helps you take a step closer to becoming your greatest version, or maybe that you may share it with someone who it would help. Either way, it helped me...
Thank you.

Peace Love Light

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