i’m trying to work on my all-or-nothing thinking.
i want so very much and when i want it, i see it as i wish it to be… perfect in its own way.
When i want to give… i see it the same way… in perfection.
Life isn’t perfect and neither am i… and when things come to fruition and they are scarred… banged up… less than the wonderful thing i intended? i crumble a bit. i take it personally. i feel like it is a reflection of me. i see my scars, my imperfections, i see them magnified and displayed. i shrink in the face of them… retract… i feel ugly and unlovable. This all stands in stark contrast to the mask i wear, i suppose. i do not always appear to the world like that, i suppose… but i am just as uncertain as anyone else is.
If – perchance – i see things going wonky as they go? It makes me want to scrap the project/relationship/goal altogether.
That’s not good enough for me anymore. i see that in myself and i do not wish it to be so. i do not want to be a person who abandons goals just because they seem unattainable. i do not care to live a life striving always for perfection that never will be. What a waste of time and energy and heart space.
i do not want to stop giving to others out of some sort of anxiety that what i have is not enough… not shiny enough… not sweet enough or perfect enough.
There is this part of me that is so desperate for approval and i do not like it. It has led me down bad paths before. i tell myself that the reason for that history is because i put my faith and trust in the wrong people. i built my sense of self on the wishes of people who did not have my best interest at heart. When i see that part of me that wishes to serve and to please… when i feel that warm rush of submission for Master? there is part of me… one of those sybil-like moments… that steps in to protect me, i think. That part of me is useful… or… has been useful to me in the past. i don’t know that i need her anymore. That part of me that protected the rest? It seems almost possessive to me now… it’s keeping me from touching Him fully… of being me fully… and i almost want to say to her, “Thank you for keeping me safe and sane… thank you for everything you did… i don’t need you anymore… you’re cramping my style… you’re hurting me now… let me go… i’m okay here… “
Seems silly when i type it out… and then i cry… because as i read it again i realize that it is true. i do not believe that i am a multiple, but i fragmented my drive over the years in an interesting way and it’s harder than i anticipated… this reunification of sorts.
i am a woman with a will to survive… a will to fight for that survival… and yet i want to be soft and vulnerable. Sometimes my will and my wanting to be weak crash together with enough force… i swear there’s a sound inside my head… a cacophony
i am trying to find the in-betweens… trying to find balance