You have to let go, or so they tell us.
Stop holding the things that weigh you down or drive you crazy.
I know this sounds easy. It sounds simple.
Right?
But the human mind is simple in a different way.
Maybe I’m smart or maybe I’m not so smart.
Or maybe I’m too smart for my own good and it would be easier if I knew less, or should I say, if I remember less . . .
Let go.
Why hold on to all the details that upset you or bring you down?
Why do we think about the scenarios that hurt us more than help us?
We need to find the glory. We have to remember the victories, even if they led to a defeat or something unfortunate. Think about the good things, or the happy times, or remember the things that make you laugh and smile.
Think about a time when the sky was bright and the winds were perfect. Or as this pertains to me, I can think about a moment on the water, or by the boats, and by the docks where the snappers run at the end of the summer season, and yes, there’s so many of them, hungry and voracious, and it’s like a massacre.
I love walking around the docks and explaining about boats.
Why not think about times like this?
Remind yourself that there is no room for hate or resentment.
Remind yourself that if you can’t feel better than you think, then we have to start to think about better things. We have to remember the moments when life was kind enough to put a smile on our face.
Go back to before, and if you have to go back further, then reach further into the depths of your perception when life took on an appeal of something high or lofty. Think about the laughter. Think about the thrill of feeling good. It’s too easy to feel like shit!
I know that there is a trick to this. I know there is an art of letting go. I know that we tend to hold the items that weigh us down. And I’m not always sure why.
I don’t know why it is easier to focus on the bad things or the hard times. It’s easier to remember the sad memories that degrade our being and keep us from finding happiness.
And me?
I want to be happy.
How about you?
I have heard people talk about mindfulness—as if to be mindful, or as if to live in the moment and not the emotional contents that trick us with the deception of our perception.
I understand this.
I understand the ability of thought and how thought impacts feelings. This is like a daisy chain of events, which is how thinking impacts our feelings and our feelings impact the chemistry of our emotion.
We can either set ourselves off or we can save ourselves and replace unhelpful thoughts with positive actions.
I know there are great things that took place in my life. I know there are things that happened that were so good or so much fun that, perhaps, they might seem like they can only happen once in a lifetime.
And, yes, I understand the need or the want and the drive to recreate or to top this.
I understand the need to keep the high going.
I understand the need and the draw, or even the addiction to which case, we want to feel that feeling. We want to find that high or that perfect sense of euphoria.
We want to find a sense of peace where the toxic life around us seems to dissipate and all the pain, or all the flaws, and all the past misgivings or the moments of apprehension are gone.
Vanished, as in with the blink of an eye.
I agree this is like a drug. I agree that this is better than any narcotic and any of the opiates on the market today. Sure, there are times, or people, places, and things that lead us to achieve this sense of euphoria.
It’s grand.
It’s beautiful
This is the most amazing feeling in the world because this is pure and uncut.
There is nothing synthetic about it, and nothing deadly, unless we allow this to go and choose fear over freedom.
Perhaps this is why we are so scared to lose people in our life. Maybe this is why we lose our mind, or maybe this is why we are so afraid because what if we never feel that high again?
What if I never feel “that great” again?
I can relate to this question.
And I’m sure you can too.
What if misery is just as addicting?
What if misery is an addiction that comes with less of a pay off?
What if we were able to see that we can choose the right to find new heights?
We can dare. We can be vulnerable.
We can show ourselves as we really are, and we can find a place that fits us perfectly and no one can hurt us or degrade this moment.
Misery does love company. I agree.
However, what if we found a way to let go of the past?
What is we were able to let go of all that weighs us down or holds us back?
Imagine?
I have been told that I am always welcomed to be unhappy. This takes no energy but at the same time, misery drains us, and like depression or like anxiety, we can lose to this like water loses to a drain.
I realize this, which is how I came up with the analogy of water losing to a drain because this is what happens when we lose our mind. Or worse, this is what happens when our emotions take over and we lose control.
I admit to this.
At the same time, everyone has the right to freak out. We all have the right to think and to feel and to act or respond.
At the same time, I offer myself the question:
“What do you want this to look like?
Do you want to fight?”
The answer is no.
So, then what’s the issue.
I have inventory. I have memories. I have scars and wounds and pains that linger. Accordingly, I act on this behalf, which is not only unbecoming, but unhealthy, and more than anything, this is unhelpful.
I have to choose to stop this.
Or, I run the risk of losing more.
Does freaking out help?
Not at all.
No, this is a childish response that screams from the base of my fear, or this is otherwise known as a brat attack because in fairness, and humbly, I admit that I do this.
I admit that this is an immature version of saying, “I want what I want, when I want it, and I want it NOW!”
It’s time to grow up!
I freak out.
I lose control.
I lose my mind and when it comes to emotional safety or being afraid that I won’t get my way, I become angry that a dream will fall through or that the end result will lead to shame or disappointment.
So, I freak out.
This doesn’t help me, by any means.
But I do it.
And so do you, I’m sure.
We can focus on the hardships. We can think about the unwanted past and look to relitigate what happened, but nothing changes.
Yesterday is in the record books.
I have to remember that.
And so do you, I suppose.
That is, of course, if we want to move forward
(or be happy).
I think about the destruction or the aftermath of an argument. I can think of the times when fights took place, bad words are used, or mean things are said or done. Meanwhile, I wished I would have just shut my mouth, or said, I’m sorry, I love you, and I don’t want to fight.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
I don’t want to fight.
These are great things for me to say.
Right or wrong, I don’t want to win anymore.
I think that I would rather be happy.
I think today’s trick is to remember I can stop the wreckage at any time.
We both have the right to live and to go and to be, or the right to dare and to do and to experience new life.
This is the trick to achieve happiness.
Or, so I assume.
I want to experience the high and the joy of total comfort without the withdrawal, or without the fear that moments like this can never last forever.
And no, maybe we can’t recreate great memories, but we can top them.
Or die trying.
We can take to the rooftop and dare the world in a new place or a new time.
We can start now, if you’d like,
At least, that’s is what I plan to do.
Right now.
The Written Addiction 