So, I Hear You Want to Help People – Ch. 20

There is no need to run away from who we were. More importantly, there is no reason to hide from who we are now.
I have been told that man is who he thinks he is. I have been told that if I think that I am unworthy or that I am unsuccessful, or if I believe that I am incapable of anything better than what I have now, or if I believe that I only deserve mediocrity, or when I look at others and see myself as subservient to them or beneath, then yes, this is all I can ever be.

However, if action creates change and motion builds confidence, if I allow myself, then I can surpass any of my limitations one item at a time.

I have undergone different methods of treatment, and I have seen different therapists. I have used talk therapy, and I have sat across from professionals and friends, loved ones, and I have spoken with people who have lived with similar challenges.
In the end. I have seen proof that action and motion creates a sense of confidence.
Action creates the reaction, which is the same thing as taking control of my life.
This is me refusing to surrender.
This is me, living with a sense of healthy pride or, in other words, I find that despite the challenges I face or the hard times, or no matter what falls in front of me, as long as I move and if I choose to build, despite my difficulties, I find myself living with a proud sense of ownership.

That means I have to own this.
I own my changes.
I own my life and my so-called problems.
I own my mistakes and faults.
At the end of the day, I can look in the mirror and say this is me. Whether I am in good standing with others, or if I am alone, or if I am on top of the world or beneath the bus, which I had just been thrown under, I have to see my reflection in the mirror at the end of the day, and no matter what, I have to be able to come to a constructive conclusion.
By any means necessary.

It would be inaccurate to say that every day will be sunshine. It would also be inaccurate to say that I will always be at my beast; however, I am training myself, nonetheless, so that even on my worst days, I am better than I have ever been before.
This is my daily goal.

I used to run from myself. I used to try and hide until someone tipped me to the idea that no matter where I go, there I am.
Understand?
I used to run from the truth. But the truth was always there.
I used to hide from the fact that I failed because I was not putting in the work to be better.
However, this is a symptom.
Not the problem.
In part, this is what depression does because I know that I can do more and that I am capable.
But somehow, I am (and was) faced with some kind of blockage.
I had obstacles that limited me in a sense, to which I failed to launch because why try, or why bother if everything is doomed from the start?

I have said this to you before. However, I still remember the first time I ever heard a speaker say, “It’s like you have to save your own life on a daily basis.”
I agree,
I took this to heart.
But more, I took this into consideration and because I did; I thought about the times when I failed myself. I thought about the times when I allowed the inner voice to occupy too much of my attention.
I agree.
We have to save our own life, each and every day.
I agree that success is up to me.
I agree that regardless of where I am or even if I am on the floor, or if I am imprisoned in some way, shape, or form, or if I am at my worst; no matter what, I have to find a way to save my own life.
I have to keep my mind from drowning in the abyss of an unfortunate imagination.

We have to be mindful.
We have to be steadfast and dedicated to making at least one step in a new direction.

I write this to you as an offering.
I write this as someone who has believed in the worst, and therefore, I have self-sabotaged, and thought my way into the belief of failure. Again, if I can only be as great as my thoughts, then I have to be greater than someone who is always waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

If I believe that failure is inevitable and that success is too far for me to reach, then A) how can I expect to reach for success and B) why would I even try if I don’t believe that success is possible?

There are chances and windows of opportunity out there, just waiting.
But like all living things, chances and opportunities will not be around forever.
They can die too.

I remember being stuck, or as I was explaining in yesterday’s entry, I needed help.
I needed something to push me. I needed something to wake me up or to open my eyes, and more than just a push, I needed something to encourage my belief system.
I needed to find something so that I can do anything in my heart.
I needed to believe
I can do anything.
I can achieve. I can grow. I can adapt and I can improve.
I can go.
I can stand on my own two feet and I can walk away. I can do this without the need to look back over my shoulder to see if my past is still around, or to see if anyone misses me, or if anyone wants me back or regrets that I left.
I do not need to invest in people, places, or things.
I need to invest in myself first, before I can invest in anyone or anything.

I have a memory.
This was somewhat recent and while not all the details need to be said, at least not for this entry, I remember that old familiar feeling of failure and distress.
I remember that discomfort of desperation.
I remember the disgust of internal rejection and yes, I was both figuratively and literally on my knees.
No one was around to help me. No one could save me.
No one could offer me warmth from the hand or a glimpse of hope.

I was sitting at home.
There was a movie that came on television, which is unimportant to some degree.
However, the movie is interesting to me because each time I go through a major change, or whenever my life takes a turn, or whenever I find that my life has been taken by storm, this same movie comes on, every time.

I found myself weeping out of nowhere.
I started crying.
I cried hard and long, which I am free to do now.
However, there was a time when I would never allow myself to cry or weep, or to admit to the presence of pain.
No, I would just take it and endure.

I would never allow myself to love or to feel love or to exchange love, either truly or wholeheartedly. In my best defense, I was always too afraid that if I let go, someone would see me as weak, at best, and somehow, I would be laughed at.
I would be seen as vulnerable and once more, I would find myself surrounded by my old theories of pain and be afraid that my weakness would be discovered or exposed.

If I am what I think I am, then I used to be who I thought I was. Therefore, at best. I was mean and often too quick to defend myself.
I admit to this.
I was selfish. I was self-centered, but more than this or more than anything else; I was afraid.

I was afraid to be laughed at again. I was afraid to be picked on, like I was when I was little. I was afraid to be that little second-grade kid who pissed his pants in my elementary school cafeteria.
I still remember this well.
I wet my pants during lunch and then I was yelled at and ridiculed by the lunch-lady in front of my class, who belted out in an uproar of laughter.
At least, this is how I remember it.

I was afraid to be betrayed.
I was afraid to be hurt or to find out that I was nothing more than a joke or that I believed in a lie.
I was afraid to be the weak one or to be bullied or beaten — and as for love, I was afraid to be humiliated again, like I was the very first time I had a so-called real girlfriend.
I remember this too. She was the one who not only cheated on me with more than one person, but worse, I was afraid to feel that same feeling when I was called another man’s name while inserting myself in a moment of sexual intimacy, — and worse than it is to admit this, I have to admit that this happened to me three times by two different names.

I used to have conversations about this in my head.
I would ask myself why would I stay around for something like this?
Why would I allow myself to be treated this way?
Was the rejection too much for me to handle?
Did I try because if, in some way, I could hold on or hang in there and somehow change her mind, almost as if to prove that I am worthy . . .

I was afraid to be the idiot or the fool again.
I was afraid to feel so weak and pitiful that instead of changing my guard and realizing that this was her—not me; instead, I decided to own what happened as my fault.
Therefore, I refused to believe in love, or that love could happen.
I refused to believe that anyone could love me.
If someone told me they loved me, or if someone showed me their love, I refused to believe that this was either real or permanent and that inevitably, they would leave me.

I lived with a sense of diseased thinking for so long that I believed in lies.
I believed that I was incapable of living a good, happy life. As a result, and admittedly, I hurt others and I ruined chances.
I missed opportunities to dance more, to laugh more, and more than anything, I missed out on the chance to love more too.

I say this with regret but I do not say this shamefully.
No, I say this honestly because in my best belief, explaining this is far braver than anything else I have ever done in my life.

Now, and with this being put out to the universe, I offer this as an outline of hope, even in hopeless times, because while there are times when I am down, I have chosen to create an action.
And that is exactly what this entry is.
This is an action.
I have chosen to move, no matter how hard this is or no matter how much this may hurt because my refusal to sit still is not only lifesaving, but this is also lifechanging as well.

What holds back the tears?
What needs to happen to unlock your emotions so that you can open up and let them go?

If you are too afraid to open up, or if you are done crying or you can’t cry, or if the blockages that keep you from being free refuse to submit, then what can you do to rid yourself from the unalterable past?

How can you change your direction?
How can you change the way you think so you can change the way you live?
Or better, how can you replace problematic thoughts with beneficial actions?

How long can you last in the stagnant life that is less desired? More to the point; how long can you stand the flatline or mediocrity?

I can’t take the swings sometimes, or the ups and downs which come with life.
I understand that we will all see good times and bad times.
I can agree that time can heal wounds. Maybe not all wounds; however, I can relate to the ideas of living with a sense of melancholy which is unrelenting, because of something that happened to me and refuses to give way.

But –
I want more.
I want more than just the average.
I want more than just a taste.
I want more from love than something, which only seems partial, or like a 9 – 5, Monday through Friday.

I want the unending and everlasting happiness.
I want this for life or longer.
I want this with all that I have, and with all of my heart.

I want this and more.
But if I am who I think, then I have to think better of myself, which means that I have to act better.
I have to choose to invest in my actions.
I have to create motion to serve my emotions and push myself to reach my best.
I have to do this, each day, as in all day and every day.
Until death do us part.

Therapy helps.
But be advised, action is the best therapy of all.
Especially now.

Understand?