I’ve been looking in the mirror lately with one repeating question – “who the fuck are you?” I’ve yet to devise an answer. There was a time my response would have been quick, simple, and easily formed. Since January, though, it’s gotten increasingly difficult.
In October of last year, I promised myself that I was making good changes and progress. I was turning 34, and I am tired of the nonsense. Since that time, I have spiraled up and down so much, I could not tell you where the hell I am anymore.
I’m hardly interested in whining about my life, but I don’t think I can write if I cannot understand. The entire reason I had started writing was to become myself. I find myself confused, I guess, that it seems every time I attempt to find myself, grow, and change, I tend to lose it and hit a new bottom. I think the worst part about attempting to improve yourself is that every time you fall, which happens to everyone, you become more acutely aware of it. It becomes easier to rationalize going back to bad behaviors, because at least you were happier or it was easier or you are becoming convinced that it was inevitable and change is impossible.
I’m at a new bottom. In this bottom, I have seemed to convince myself that I am weak and helpless, I am an idiot, and I am never going to get better. Prior to forcing myself to write this, I have spent most of my time sleeping, caring for the kids, and sleeping some more. Prior to this, I was meditating a lot again and feeling very connected. Then, I allowed a guy to con me again. With the nonsense of the last few weeks, I have found myself at this point where I no longer believe in myself. I had attempted to trust my instinct and listen to my “little voice”. I had promised myself that I was not going to repeat my cycles and patterns – i.e. lose myself in other people or their problems.
I do not think I failed, but at the same time this man managed to seriously, seriously fuck my life up. This man wasn’t even my boyfriend, and while initially I had feelings for him, I quickly realized that it was not in my best interest and shut them down – something I had never really been able to do before. I used to attempt to “fix” everyone and “fix” every relationship, etc. It’s not really relevant, except to say that everything that happened is making me think of everything that happened to me in January.
In January, I had been meditating and it seemed to grow very strong. I started seeing a lot of images in my meditations, I felt as though my writing had improved dramatically, and my thirst for understanding the universe and spirituality was evolving. I had felt, at that time, I was very deeply connected to the universe, I called her Mother. Strange things started happening, which at first were very cool, but quickly became terrifying. I’ve only recently been able to start telling people about my experiences, because I was terrified to speak of them. I can summarize by saying – at that time, I had believed that I was called to be a writer, that I had tapped into a source of ancient knowledge, and my job was to continue learning and understanding and writing. Typing it out makes me feel crazy all over again…
I stopped being able to sleep. Maybe it was mania, I don’t know. All I know is that I was too fucking scared to sleep. When I would, I’d wake screaming, covered in sweat and unable to remember my nightmare. It kept worsening until one day the DJ on the radio had a demonic voice and was specifically making fun of things I had written about on my blog. I cannot understand any of it, but I will say that not everything happened only in my mind. At that time, I was convinced that I was screwing everything up and that is why things were going so badly. Since then, obviously, I doubt my sanity. Frankly, I’m scared of my own mind and more often than not, I’m terrified to actually write about myself. That has caused me to lose the connection and enjoyment I had with writing, and I think, caused me to get stuck in a rut of reverting to all of my old shitty cycles and patterns. The biggest, of course, is I feel like shit about myself, so let me make myself feel like more shit.
I forced myself to come back to meditation, because it had helped me so much. I began seeing visuals again. Synchronicity has always happened to me a lot, and I’ve always noticed it, even if I didn’t have a name. In the span of 1 week, 5 of my ex boyfriends came out of the woodwork and contacted me – including the one I had cheated on my husband with and the one that fucked me up over the past few weeks.
At the time, I had thought of it as a potential for healing and growth. I talked to everyone, forgave myself and them for anything and learned. I had thought I was supposed to help that guy, and I thought I had been following my path, or whatever you want to call it. After he totaled my car, I just don’t know anymore. I feel as though I am a joke, and that I am stuck repeating history of just letting people take advantage of me. No matter what I do or think, I will always get used. Rather, I will allow people to use me. I’m scared to meditate again, as I’m convinced now that I only attract negativity into me and that I clearly do not have a clue, otherwise I wouldn’t keep getting so messed up.
I am back to questioning my mind, ability, and sanity. I know I have to rebuild, and I know I have to find my feet to stand, but I am telling you, it feels like the hole I get in gets deeper and darker every time. I guess I’m at least proud of myself for finally writing SOMETHING. It’s likely better than sleeping all day. Apologies if this is whine-y.