As I have recently been dealing and pulling myself out of a quasi deppression type deal, I have been starting to notice what I have let happen to myself over the past year. I don't even know how it happened. It's like one day about a year ago, I just sat down on the couch and stopped doing everything. Noth completely though, which may be why I didn't really feel it happening, I still did daily chores and things that needed to be done, but I stopped caring about any of it. Without even realizing it, I carried on with that for a long time. I didn't stop caring about other people, but I stopped caring about myself. Like nothing I did mattered.
While on some level I realize I do matter and I am supposed to care about things, that's logical. That's what any person with some assemblage of life and knowledge and logic and spirituality should know about being a human and existing. It's just like, that message wasn't getting sent home, the synapsis were missing each other on that one. Does that make sense?
There is also my overwhelming sense of not wanting to burden anyone with my problems. I am most often unable to put myself first in any situation. It's very hard for me to make decisions based on my own wants and needs. I always defer to someone else. Trust me, I'm not tooting my own here, this is a quality about myself that I actually quite loathe. I can't tell you how many times in my life I have missed out on something I wanted very badly or I allowed myself to be treated horribly, and without love and compassion because I didn't want the other person to feel bad for being an asshole. I mean really? What kind of person doesn't want their tormentor to feel bad? Doesn't want the monster to feel pain?
It actually took my husband getting very angry with me and confronting me with certain things that I have been doing, for me to really understand that I have to talk. I have to make thoughts into words and express them. Otherwise, I become what I have become.
So what am I doing? I'm not sure but I'm trying to be more of a person. I have a job that matters to someone, I have responsibility in my life. I mean, I'm not growing flowers and sunshine in my internal organs, but yes... I feel like at 33 years of age, I understand that I am responsible for my own shit. I have to allow myself to matter for it to actually be a thing in life. I have to take something seriously and treat it like it matters.
Just thought I'd share that with you. Reader.
Oh. This is what I looked like in the mirror when I was washing my hands... Just for a visual and also because I like taking pictures. SMILE.
Yes, that is a Twilight shirt under an Army P.T. Hoody. Heeeey!