Healing and letting myself heal was one of the hardest things I ever did in my life. I’m still learning how to rest and take it easy on myself, while still keeping my drive and ambition fired up.
One of the things I struggle with is creating a new normal for myself. My brain craves the familiar. Like, when I taught myself to drink until I found oblivion, and to get so high I couldn’t talk, when that became normal I craved it. I desired abusive relationships, superficial friendships, I wanted to feel unsettled, sad and let everything have a tinge of dirty mustard. That’s what my childhood felt like, what I grew up in, and as I learned new normals that left those sour tastes in my mouth, I wanted them.
But I didn’t want them. At all. It was like I learned to accept the awful and then wanted what was acceptable. My normals were making me miserable, which put me at war with myself so much. I felt like I was judging myself as I loathed myself as I wanted that sense of equilibrium that came from feeling dizzy.
I got sick enough of feeling dizzy, of lashing out, of hurting, that I got help.
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Started 9:28pm finished 9:32 pm
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