Angry Letter

Today I don’t believe in magic.

I hate these days.

I’ve lived 27 years of bad news. Getting worse as I go.

Now I can’t eat, can’t run, can’t sleep, can’t record YouTube videos, can’t seem to care about writing or pick a story to tell or find any characters I care about.

I can’t find any meaning in my days and I hate waking up in the mornings.

I hate these days.

 

I’m optimistic, stubborn, committed, I love life and want so much more out of it, and I will not give up. I’m driven, moody, sarcastic, creative, and I thoroughly enjoy organizing and bringing joy to others.

Just, not today.

Today I’m exhausted and in pain.

Well, that’s pretty much every day.

But today I’m sitting under a magnifying glass. It’s hard to have a few things that bring you joy – jogging, writing, creating videos – and not being able to do any of them.

It’s hard to live inside a body that punishes me physically, emotionally, and visibly for eating.

Today I am tired of always losing.

 

All it took was one special order light bulb shattering and the tears flowed all too easily.

Like they’d been waiting for a chance to be set free.

I can’t help but wonder what the point to me is.

I’m tired of all the noise and the pressure and the failure.

I’m tired of seeing everyone around me fight and fight and fight and succeed. It doesn’t upset me that they succeed. It hurts that I’m still losing. Because I work hard, I fight, I find new routes, new plans of attack, new paths to take, new reserves of determination. And I don’t get better. I get worse. I watch the window of what I can do shrink.

I know this is probably just self-pity speaking. Probably very petty of me to talk about how some days it really stings to watch people around me work hard and get places.

But I’m tired of always caring about everyone else more than myself. I’m tired of caring about hurting another’s’ feelings regardless of what it does to me.

I’m tired of hearing people tell me, ‘don’t give up, just keep fighting, I had this problem with my ____ and I did this about it, and it worked! So just keep going, you’ll get there. You just need some faith.”

What the bloody hell do you think I’m doing?

I’m fighting tooth and nail to be able to EAT FOOD and not suffer for it! That’s a base need right there. And I’m fighting for it. Every day. All I do is work hard. All I do is fight and fail and get back up and fight more.

What do you think I’m doing? Sitting around and bemoaning life? No! I’m fighting to have a life!

I don’t think about me. I don’t think about how much I hurt. I think about contributing to the world, to those in my life. I think about brightening someone else’s day. Lightening their load. Only it’s gotten to the point where I can barely freaking think due to pain and lack of sleep.

 

I’ve never given up. Never thrown in the towel.

I’ve had to overcome so much. I’ve survived a lot. I hope it’s made me a stronger person, a kinder person, because this world can always use more compassion. I hope my suffering somehow helps someone else or helps me in the long run.

But I’m growing quite tired of wishing, hoping, believing, trusting – Only. To. Get. Worse.

 

I mean, think about that.

Imagine working to be the best version of yourself possible. As healthy and emotionally mature as possible. Help others as much as possible. Enjoy life, create, inspire. Spread some joy so maybe even though my life sucks right now, someone else can feel good about themselves and their life. No one deserves pain. No one deserves to have to fight to survive. We all deserve so much beauty and empathy and excitement for life! Imagine wanting to help.

Only to have your body fight against those things. Nope. Simple nope.

Every day.

 

We deserve brilliance. The capability to learn from our mistakes and make magic out of them. To breathe fire into our own souls and allow that warmth to trickle into someone else on their coldest day. To stand as a beacon to the lost. Return home to a peaceful, exciting life we’ve created.

I deserve these things too.

I feel like a bird that’s been tethered to the ground.

Trying furiously to rise above medical limitations so I can focus on the magnificence of my own life, the majesty of this world, the glorious multitude of possibilities, and the vast amount of incredible people.

But that tether won’t let go. Won’t loosen its grip. In fact, it’s getting tighter, pulling me lower.

And there are people flying around me telling me to believe in magic. It worked for them in a short time span.

They tell me to have faith, to believe – as if I don’t.

Don’t you realize you’re mocking all the fight I’m giving? Do you see how you’re putting my efforts down? As if doing more is what I need to do, because what I’m giving isn’t enough. Don’t you hear the patronizing tone you’re taking? Get off your high horse.

Try fighting the urge to eat and then suffering when you do, so you cannot function or do anything that brings you joy – and no matter what you do, what you try, you only get worse. Since childhood. No wins. No successes. Talk to me then.

 

To all you who are suffering and fighting and only seem to be getting worse – I know you’re fighting. I know you are trying everything you possibly can. I know you’re hurting and exhausted. I know you’re of the utmost value, an amazing human being with so much to offer and a challenge in life that keeps you from delivering it, or from enjoying your own life in even the simplest of ways.

 

And of course, since all I can think about is this possibly hurting your feelings (talking to everyone reading this) – don’t feel bad. You’re not who I’m talking about.

I know when people tell me not to give up, they mean what they say. Thank you. For your encouragement and inspiration. This letter splashing my anger in a messy haze isn’t to you.

I tell people not to give up, to keep fighting. Encouragement is not offensive or patronizing. That’s not what I’m talking about. Being someone’s cheerleader is one of the most freaking noble things ever! We need more of it!!!

I’m angry at the people who act like I must not be doing enough, working hard enough, searching for answers enough. The people who keep telling me that if I believed, if I had faith, it would all get better. Magic. *poof* Obviously, they reason, I’m just not trying hard enough or having enough faith. I must not be thinking positive thoughts. Like this is my fault and I need to just get over it.

Those are the people this letter is about.

If anyone thinks I’m being selfish or self-indulgent with my pity party… That’s nice. I’ve had just about enough uncalled for criticism.

For crying out loud I’ve fought all morning and afternoon. Only now am I so done. I have the right to feel gross, to feel cheated. To feel insulted by people telling me I’m not fighting.

 

I know tomorrow – or maybe even a few hours from now – I’ll be back to believing in magic. I’ll believe I can and will overcome this. I know I can and will. But right now, I don’t feel it, don’t believe it, you know? There’s a difference, between knowing and believing/feeling. Today all I feel is the pain.

So, I want to allow myself to grieve. For so much lost time and lost magic. I want to allow myself to feel angry at all those who think I’m not trying or believing things will get better. I am allowed to. Just like you.

I think it’d be inauthentic to never expose these days. Pretend I’m doing fine and plaster on a fake smile. What’s the point of sharing anything of me with you if it’s all going to be made up? Everyone has their days. Me too. We need to stop shaming each other over that.

 

I am fighting. I am keeping positive.

And I do believe. I have faith. I always have.

Just not today.

Alienate Your Abusive Perspective

More on how to beat self-hatred…

We don’t see ourselves the way everyone else sees us.
This is pretty accurate, regardless of what issues we do or do not have.
It doesn’t matter who we are, we all see ourselves as a wet rat with sloth reflexes and a dragon’s scaly skin under our noses when we’re sick. Funny thing is, many times I’ve felt this way and met up with someone who didn’t know I was sick. Guess what? They thought I was having a marvelous hair day or looked particularly perky.
*shrug*
We see ourselves differently.

For me, I honestly have a hard time seeing anything good about myself. I’m not being melodramatic or trying to get attention. I simply don’t see it.
All I see are the negatives…
I can’t keep a job, my health stops me from living, I am in my mid-twenties and have accomplished nothing, my family has to pay for all my food, I’m depressing at times, I complain, I bloat and inflame because of my health no matter how hard I work out, etc.
Trust me, I could keep going.

So when people say I am courageous, I seriously don’t know what they’re talking about.
The first piece of advice I seem to get from everyone is to write down things I like about myself…
Think about it.
Someone is trying to tell me to start thinking about all the positive aspects of myself. I’m not trying to be a brat. I simply can’t conjure any up.

On the occasions when I can look at myself and say, “hey, yeah, that’s pretty cool of me,” those small tidbits are overshadowed immediately by the laundry list of things I’m doing “wrong” or reasons I’m a “failure” and so on.

 

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So what do we do? How do we bridge the gap between our own cruel thoughts and beliefs about ourselves – and the positives others see in us?

Start paying ridiculous attention.
If multiple people are telling us that we are good people, kind people, courageous people, good at a particular thing…
Listen.
Watch people’s body language.
Body language can tell us a lot about what people think about us.
Are others comfortable around us? Able to be themselves around us? Are they easily relaxed? Do they laugh easily?
Do people trust us? Do they confide in us, come to us when both happy and in need of support?
Learning what effects we have on others can tell us a lot about who we are – without consulting the abusers in our heads that have taken over.

Be aware of what trusted, respectful, honest people think about you.
We’re all going to run into haters. Don’t give them real estate in your head.

And for now, simply be aware of what people think.
Accept that others see you as fabulous.
Start opening up to the possibility that there is a version of you, that you yourself cannot see.
Why can’t you see this person? Especially since you live in your own skin?
Because for one reason or another, you’ve become bogged down with a magnifying glass in your head that only sees the negatives in yourself.

So breathe and allow for the truth that the beauty others see in you is really there.

 

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‘Grow Up’ Can Get Lost

Cut the crap.

The drama.

Get over yourself.

Get over all the dramas of your life and the dramas of your relationships.

 

I love that the support group I go to helps me to see that I am held responsible for myself and no one else.

I can be here to support but I am not here to fix people or their situations. Enabling them will help them stay ill. Keeping them from feeling the consequences of their actions, inactions, and/or words will help them stay ill. Lying so that I appear to be who they want me to be will help them stay ill.

Not doing that.

Doesn’t matter what kind of illness it is either. There are so many addictions. So many ways for us to hurt ourselves and others.

 

I am responsible for me.

You are responsible for you.

My words, my actions, my issues, my pain – my responsibility to deal with.

But that’s not what I want to get into today.

 

Today, I want to challenge the saying, “grow up”.

I was going to add it to my thought process. My support group reminds me, tough love, grow up.

But that’s not quite right.

Tough love at times yes.

Grow up?

“Growing up” isn’t exactly getting good at life. It isn’t exactly enjoying life. It isn’t exactly living life.

At all.

 

Perhaps what we really need is youth. A youthful mindset.

(Not childishness. Don’t think child. Think youthful. Really, there’s a difference.)

 

Youth focuses on self-care and self-love and relationship with God (or whatever your Higher Power is), and then thinks of others.

Youth breathes.

Simply is.

Youth says “no” and doesn’t feel ashamed for meeting their NEEDS before someone else’s WANTS. (Don’t forget, unless you’re the parent to a child, other peoples’ needs are their responsibility to meet. You don’t disregard your needs to help someone else meet their needs because they’re good at manipulating you, or a thousand other scenarios.)

If we are to become youthful, we will know and believe we matter and so do all others; humans, animals, and nature alike.

Just breathe.

Enjoy our lives more.

Seek out what we are passionate about more.

Change our perspectives. If we make a mistake – we are NOT horrible, a loser, the scum of the earth, etc. – instead, when we make a mistake, why not think of it as an experiment?

 

Youthfulness realizes life is a gift.

Youthfulness accepts that life is going to hurt.

Youthfulness both knows and believes we have to create our own magic to feel our lives are magical.

 

We Are All Cracked

A water bearer carried 2 pots from the river to her master’s house every day.

One pot was perfect, carried its load easily and without issue.

The second pot wore a crack.

By the time the water bearer got to her master’s home, the first pot would be filled to the brim with water, just as when she filled it at the river. The second pot, however, would only be half full, having leaked water the whole walk home.

This second pot was ashamed of its imperfection. It often wondered, “why not replace me?” One day it asked, humiliated and feeling ever so lacking.

The water bearer smiled kindly, lovingly. She said, “As we walk home, watch the flowers on the side of the path.”

The pot, in it’s misery watched the flowers along the side of the path, glumly resigned to a life of being worthless. I’m sure the cracked pot wondered why watching flowers could help anything. Along the way, it noticed there were only flowers on it’s side of the path. The pot carried on her other side, which leaked nothing and boasted perfection, had no flowers to watch go by on it’s side of the path.

When the water bearer arrived at the master’s home, she told the cracked pot, “You see, I knew you had a crack. I planted seeds on your side of the path and you watered them each day. I then pluck the flowers and beautify the master’s home with them each week.”

 

 

God loves us, cracks and all.

I love this story.

 

We all leak. We all have weaknesses, all make mistakes.

We still bring beauty to the world around us if we try our hardest to do so.

 

I just recently had hallucinations, you guys! It was crazy. But I was aware that I was hallucinating so it wasn’t so frightening. I did have to call in sick from work the next day though. Which sucked. But it happens.

You see, I was given a certain pill and had a monumentally horrid reaction. Eventually, not getting enough sleep, (even for me, having insomnia on and off), I ended up hallucinating.

Ha! Crazy experience!

What I’m getting at here, is this…

 

…I have a lot of health issues. They caused me to have to quit my full time job of construction. I now work part time and am searching for other part time work.

At the moment I cannot even buy my own food or my baby’s food (my dog).

I have quite a many cracks and, like the pot, there is nothing I can do to sew them up, to quit leaking. I cannot change how I was born. I can work toward a healthier life, yes, but I cannot change my health. I cannot slough off the debilitating depression or anxiety or exhaustion that shuts down my ability to focus or think properly (due to CFS), I cannot do anything about any of my health issues – and get another full time job and go to work like a normal, healthy person with stability of body and mind.

 

 

Often times I have felt like the cracked pot, ashamed of my weaknesses and inability to function like a hard working member of society.

But I’m now certain, somewhere along the way, the leaking I’ve done has allowed something wonderful to grow.

In the past month, I’ve realized, I am hard working. I am working crazily hard. With my family, helping others, attending my callings in life, writing, working part time, and coping with my limitations as best I can.

What more can I ask of myself?

 

We are all imperfect. We all have issues.

This is, of course, is only one part of my life. But I’ve shared with you so you can see how I can focus easily on what I cannot do, and woe over my incapacitates to have a purpose.

Or I can realize that by leaking, I’m helping flowers grow.

I am helping with much else in my life and the lives around me.

I have purpose.

I am loved, regardless.

 

I am cracked. We are all cracked.

We are lovable, regardless.

 

Instinct

The daily prompt a few days ago was instinct.

Upon reading it, the word that pinged in my head was intuition.

 

Successful people listen to their intuition.

When I say successful, I don’t mean people who make a mega load of money and live in gold filled castles.

I mean people who are happy. Truly harmonious in their environment. They’ve found peace with who they are, the world they live in, and those who live within it with them.

 

Number one thing this world numbs us to?

Ourselves.

Our intuition.

The voice inside.

 

 

The world tells us to ignore it. Disbelieve it. Shame it. Write over top it in the worlds’ lush, arsenic-filled, bold, loud script.

Basically, get rid of you and put on this plastic suit, so you can be miserable while simultaneously what other people want of you. And boy, you had better act like you like it.

 

Antidote? Find a way to live your live as the person you are, in the way which is right for you.

(unless you’re a murderer, rapist, or animal abuser – then I think you should just die slowly in a hole)

Simple antidote?

Don’t let their voices drown out the one inside you.

Simple but extremely difficult, challenging, and complicated.

 

 

Follow your intuition, your gut. You know what is right for you.

Don’t lose you.

Crying is Not a Weakness

A few years ago, a Cherokee medicine woman shared with me the meaning of white roses and tears.

“We never wipe away our tears; we are not ashamed of them.” She said.

On the Trail of Tears, many of our ancestors were shoved and pushed and made to walk, often times until they died. It is said that when their tears touched the ground, a white rose grew. Others say that the white roses grew to give the mothers strength.

Regardless, we never wipe away our tears. We are not ashamed of them. We do not stop ourselves from crying because of sorrow or joy.

Tears are not shame. They are pain, they are joy, struggles and hopes. We are human and we feel. If we do not feel the urge to hide our smiles, why should we feel it necessary to hide our tears?

I mean, when did human emotion become something we’re supposed to be ashamed of? That doesn’t make any sense to me.

(And just in case you’re wondering, there really are white roses growing along the Trail of Tears.)

 

Ironically, I never cry in public. I’d be too embarrassed. Tears are personal to me. But I no longer consider them something to be ashamed of.

Do you?

 

(And don’t get annoying. I’m talking about sincere tears here, not people who are immature and cry over everything or to manipulate others.)

 

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