I’ve neglected you. I don’t call, I don’t write but I’m back, just like that asshole you gave your number to 4 months ago. These last few months have been busy, amazing and scary all at once. I’ve changed. Kind of a big statement to make but this time off has shown me who I can be and what I’m made of. I’ve been resistant to my own evolution for a while now. And although there has been some growth in the last 3 years, it’s mostly been stagnant because of fear. I’m not one made or built for change, I know how that sounds and yes I am aware that one can live without constant change. But what scares me is the lack of control when those changes come into effect. I’m so scared of how change will affect me that I don’t always realize that it’s necessary. But it’s like I’m seeing many things and people for the first time ( I swear, I wanna slap myself for this cult-like sentence…). What happens when you finally realize that you’re the reason you’re unhappy? How can such a small revelation fuck your entire life up?
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: change and me ain’t friends. This will probably be something that I will struggle with for the rest of my life. What’s change in the last few months, is how unhappy I’ve made myself limiting myself and closing myself out. I know I’m not afraid of disappointment (Who really is these days?!?!), but what most certainly afraid is being happy. Being so happy that I become extremely paranoid. Then comes out the classics like “I don’t deserve to be this happy, so let me sabotage this motherfucker” or “it’s only a matter of time before x,y and z goes away and I’m right back to where I started”. I’m good at creating self-doubt but I’m even better at my own self-destruction. Why is it as people, we feel like we are not deserving of things that come easy, things aren’t hard? Why is it that we are so afraid of being happy, but before reveling in that happiness and letting others know how fucking joyful life is?
You know the answer and I know it too well. It’s easier to live in the routine of unhappiness and no expectations because you will not be disappointed (yet again…). It’s easier for me at least to bury myself in the things that are wrong with me and my life. It’s a comforting feeling and it’s also addicting. It’s like you’ve programmed your mind to only see and detect the bullshit, then you pat yourself on the back when said bullshit is delivered to your front door. I’d like to think it’s because I’m so self-aware, but I know it’s because it’s easier for me to spot ( and sometimes imagine) because of what I tell myself: no one will ever fuck me over again and if they try, I’ll see it coming.
I choose to focus on the things that are right too often. I’m so worried that I’ll be hurt again or that I will let the wrong one in that I didn’t realize that I’m ultimately the one who’s fucking my own self up.