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I'm back, and I will just go through this as if I were talking to a friend.
The way life works for me that seems normal is constant change. I never really have the same year. I don't have a routine, I usually do something drastically different from what I did the year before. Possibly I've matured over the course of the passing seasons, but I can't really tell, because there are nights when I feel nostalgic of all the how-things-have-been. Looking back at the vibrant days where emotions were attached to a feeling of longing for the end game.
There were growing frustrations in between, those nightmares of loneliness and despair of the future. My carelessness being a baggage I hold onto to keep at the bad habits I've succumbed to. I would be proud of my free-spirited nature, showing bravado of how my youth would be filled with unmatched life experiences any other wouldn't take for granted. My life was basic. I always played my persona on a pedestal of hope that someone wanted to be like me.
It's easy to fool me. I'm gullible because I want to play a story of a life where I just keep growing, pursuing a shell that hardens over time. Playing a victim long enough before this heroine learns to save herself. This life had other options of having a vibrant and colorful life story package, but mine would be of solitude and pride in courage to trudge whatever obstacle alone. Before I get too poetic and vague, it's just everything has changed so much.
I've always been used to getting by alone. Save a few moments where someone would be there to hear my woes. There was a time, I would be surrounded by friends, a group I thought would carry on as I grow into my granny years. Sadly, only time can tell when people's true selves show. It would be completely biased if I said that there was nothing wrong with me. I'm a flawed human. As much as perfection seems ideal, hardly anyone can live their whole lives without having made mistakes. The choices I made to steer clear from these 'friends' helped me realize a few points.
I may have been quite submissive, and just bandwagon-ed on whatever they were interested in, but it doesn't dismiss the times they simply used me for their convenience. I was easily eager to please anyone who made me feel I could do something to help. Putting their needs over mine, making myself dull or bright wherever was deemed appropriate. Being a puppet that was at their beck and call. Their opinions are the only ones that matter, everything else is just stupid or of no importance.
These times drained me. Wounded my identity to a fault that I am simply an imposter amongst a sacred alliance. That's when it was probably time to just get up and leave, finding all the reasons that what I was doing is the proper thing for my life. Doubt would always loom over my thoughts, shouting at my ungrateful self. No one is perfect. But so am I. If there's this dread and unwelcoming, why be a part of something that no longer belongs to me. So, it needs to be left behind.
A range of emotions wash over me, cycling over and over, anger, sadness, despair, and loneliness once again. This opens opportunities to try more new things to fill the space. It honestly is just an incarnation of the same cycle of the fake, the toxic, and ongoing dread.
There comes a time, when something breaks. And that was my sanity. I questioned everything and everyone. I blamed myself, and then isolated myself from anything that could be a start of something new. I changed a part of me. I took a risk.
Breaking the cycle means letting a lot of things change. I had to break patterns of my life. Thoughts, actions, people had to be left behind. Honestly, it was tough. When you get used to something, it's like quitting a vice, it's just a comfort of having it available.
What really keeps me busy is always replaying the bad things that I could remember. Like I said, I'm a pretty gullible person. I prefer to replay the memory and torture myself, so it could be ingrained on my mind to never make the same mistake. That was the norm for me. Silently going through this self made torture isn't fun, no one would make anyone go through that unless they had something wrong with their head. But, it just feels so normal, because I felt I deserved it. It was sad that I came to a point where I manipulated myself into thinking I deserve to put myself in my own version of hell.
Day by day, it was a struggle. I would secretly slither back to that habit. Making me start with a bad day, turning into a bad week, etc. It was noteworthy to say. Some habits are easier to break when someone believes in you and helps you get through it. Someone sees the good in you and the beauty in life (cliche). No matter the struggles and setbacks, is right there to make it all possible. To this person, who takes pride in fixing everything alone, is in need of someone to help me get through times like these.
I lash out often. Feeling entitled to my life's struggle, it needed to be remembered. There are excuses left and right to why I should not deserve a peaceful life.
Well, as with all the good things that come along the way, it takes time and patience. I realized that, looking back at the last 2 years. Certainly, much has been said, much has changed. I'm now looking at my surroundings with a fresh lens. I can be at peace, There will be great things in store for me once I stop looking at the past. It's done, I'll make new mistakes this time, and new memories. There's enough worrying for now.
This is the last time I'm bringing this up. Got to stop wasting my time and start being happy. I deserve the present.