I have good, optimistic days, and then I have days like today. Days in which something I perceive as bad happens, and I can’t help but make fun of myself to mask the pain.
Days in which I add every little thing that hurts me or stresses me out and subtract the things that make me happy and I am grateful for, and somehow the sum is zero.
Writing this, expressing myself this way, is sad and makes me feel guilty. Why? Because I am aware of all the blessings I have received and all the wonderful little moments that mark each of my days. But sometimes, the painful ones linger on, and I need to unravel my thoughts before they swallow me whole.
Painting the darkest days in bright colors
Long story short, 2023 has so far been the year of:
Debunking delusion - I have realized, time after time, that all my relationships have been based on a beautified, rose-colored perception of reality that I bring myself to believe and, ultimately, pursue. For instance, I have entered and stayed in relationships for the sake of a potential that never comes to fruition. I have overanalyzed the smallest gestures thinking they are masking unrequited love that I must welcome and accept. I have thought I would be valued and chosen, only to be met with half-truths and half-rejections. This mindset has led me to much disappointment in record time. It has broken my heart over and over again, and made me realize that one more time, the problem is me.
Navigating uncertainty - I have said this before, but it remains true. The twists and turns of life I keep facing at a hard-to-fathom rate have driven me a bit insane. They have not only triggered feelings of anxiety and sadness, but also the unability to plan and, therefore, get excited over things that are at least two days down the line. One would argue that it is positive to worry only about the present day’s problems. But when you also need to solve things crucial to your livelihood and that depend on other tiny steps, every single task becomes burdensome, concerning, and frustrating.
Cultivating patience - Rooted on the uncertain fashion of this entire year, life keeps repeating me that I need to wait. Wait for what? I don’t know yet, but I need to wait for the important things, and I need to wait for the trivial ones. Not long ago, I read a quote that said “if you ask God to make you patient, he will send you situations that will test your forbearance,” and no statement has ever rang more accurately. This patience test has not made waiting any easier, though. In fact, I have more clarity and stability than I have had in months, but I guess so many disappointments led to an inability to expect something cheerfully. I can’t, for the life of me, envision things or speak them into existence, as I did way before manifesting became a thing.
When faced with these overlapping and profoundly intertwined facts of my current life, I can't help but spiral. I spiral out of control, always in my head for no one to see, holding back cries I am embarrassed to shed at this point, five months after my life was turned upside down. But sometimes, they overwhelm me and proceed to fall like angry rivers in the shape of loaded tears that leave me dry.
On days when it all feels too heavy, slow, or unfair, I don’t want to leave my cocoon. But I always do. How, you might wonder? By giving myself a pat on the back for trying even when the trial leads to error, for sticking to my authenticity even when I wonder if said trait is better than the more cowardly version of myself. Most of all, I try to convince myself that, even when it doesn’t feel that way, everything that happens or doesn’t is for my own good. That rejection is hurtful, but better than waiting in vain for something that will never arrive. That some of life’s blows are meant to teach me that I depend solely on myself, and I must honor who I am above all else, always. That being content with myself is indeed pivotal to getting different results. You know, the cliches one often hears, yet sound far-removed until they unmistakably hit too close to home.
After my whole day of self-deprecation, which often made me laugh with the absurdity and amount of anecdotal things that happen to me (or that I bring upon myself?) I decided to focus on the positives. The long-awaited start of my new job, one that I hope brings happier and steadier times. And unexpected moments that help me be present, like the wholesome painting class I took with my cousin while rain poured outside: it not only helped me dare to create something, but it showed me how I have gotten into the habit of judging myself too harshly. I made a mental note to work on that, and I have a renewed sense of duty to myself, knowing correcting this will help all other aspects and ground me as I face what I actually cannot control.
I am sorry (not sorry) if you’ve read other posts and I am starting to sound repetitive. But to me, the only way to truly heal and make sense of the pain is to create something. And that means I will keep on writing away until times change. Or until I do.
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