Choose Freedom. Choose Myself.

I am sick and tired of this feeling of needing. This feeling of graspiness and attachment, that if I don’t have “him,” I am less than and not worthy and uninspired and unmotivated. This need for “him” to be all things to me, to stave my loneliness and boredom, to entertain me, to be everything for me. Why do I have this need? I’d like to be free from it. I’d like to choose freedom. FREE YOUR MIND!

Why am I still stuck? I’ve had this transformation, this huge opportunity to do something different with my life and I’ve taken some steps–some large steps–yet I stay small.  I don’t “go for it” in terms of how I spend my days and my time. I could be doing so much for my life and myself. But I stay small and get in my own way. Is it fear? Fear of what though?

I continually lose myself in these relationship situations. I forget what I’m about, what I want, and I only chase what is in front of me because I believe that I want only that. The blinders come on and I forget the rest of my life and purpose. For “him,” I put myself in bondage.

And so I need to be reminded to choose freedom. To remember myself. To find myself instead of lose myself. Even if I am “in it” with someone else.

And maybe this is why “T” was presented to me: to remember to choose freedom. To see if I can choose freedom and choose me, even while choosing to spend time with someone else. But this is also the fourth day that I haven’t heard from “him” and this does not meet my needs for connection, communication, and closeness.

I’m feeling shitty and lost. Weak and vulnerable. Which tells me that I have to find my strength again in order to return to being the best version of myself that I want to be–for me first, and then for someone who wants some of this (!).

I write because

Written on July 18, 2016

I write because no one else is me and so no one else knows how my experiences have affected me, though my feelings about these experiences are likely universal. I write because maybe the lessons I’ve learned will shed light onto other people’s lives.

I write because voices like mine will only be heard if they are put out there to be heard, not kept silent or held down. I write because I have ideas to share, experiences to share, stories to share. I write because from writing, I learn more about my life and myself and my thoughts and my actions and what I think about the people and the world around me.

I write because no one I know understands what it feels like to be knocked down in the prime of their lives, without having accomplished certain things worth accomplishing. Being knocked down without someone to stand behind you to hold you up, no children to represent you in your absence.