I want to throw up. I ate too many cookies. I made cookies even though I knew I might eat too much. I thought it would be okay, that you know, so I eat too many, who cares? I’m allowed to treat myself. And I was in full control of what I was eating. I thought I was anyways. Enjoyed most of it. Except that now I’m feeling nauseous. And I want to throw up. I pretty instinctively say I’m not allowed to want to, so I don’t. Except that it doesn’t work, doesn’t help any. Instead I’m writing this – which really does help as it’s focusing elsewhere.
I want to throw up. What I’m trying to realise and apply to all my life is that I’m allowed to think anything. That it’s okay. So this is what I want. It’s okay. I’m allowed to want to. I do want to. I really want to. I want control. I feel like if I throw up I’m actively doing something that will give my control. And it’s true in a sense. And it’s okay. I want it. I want control. I want the haze. I also don’t want to. Evidently. Else I just would’ve instead of sitting to write this.
I don’t want to primarily because of the haze. Because it puts a distance between me and the world. The world is often, for lack of a better word, fake enough as it is. I don’t want to make myself less present than I already am. I don’t want to make the wall thicker. Using/escaping by any means does that. I’m finally beginning to feel like I’m living IN the world, like I’m actually present, here, living life. I don’t know really how to put it into words, but anyone who has lived without being present will know what I mean when I say I want reality. That’s my reason for not acting on it.
The biggest thing that helps me to stay away from using is this. What I’m doing now. Acknowledging it. Accepting it (if I can). Letting it be. Knowing that it’s okay. For it IS okay. I want to, and it’s okay. I feel guilty for wanting to. I’m allowed to feel guilty. I feel guilty for feeling guilty. I’m allowed to. I hate the way it’s all black and white to me. I’m allowed to hate it. The constant contradiction that is everywhere, is what it is. I still feel nauseous and still want to. And it’s okay. And moving on. It helps me to journal it through. To write it all down. Or say it. I find it translates to my life, the more I do it. I find myself thinking something. My immediate reaction is to negate it. I’m not allowed to hate anything. I’m not allowed to feel or think or be. My secondary reaction, sometimes instinctive, is to acknowledge that I hate it, think it, and tell myself that it’s okay, that I’m okay. For, regardless, I am okay. And, I am okay. It’s the truth. It’s my truth.
I was actually trying to explain this to someone the other night when I asked her to call when I was in tears after writing a letter to AH – for me only (I love you TC, if you’re reading this). She told me to stop beating her friend up. I was telling her that I’m not. That I’m upset about what I did. I’m upset because it scares me. It scares me how much of a part I played in wrecking something that meant so much to me. I don’t blame myself for it. I’m upset about it and want it to be different. I know I didn’t have any other choice. It scares me that I didn’t have any other choice. I was completely unaware of what I was saying/writing. I wasn’t aware of the ramifications or what my words would mean to someone else. I don’t feel like it’s my fault. It happened. AH left. I definitely had a major part to play in that, however much I think that being that it’s what we were supposedly working on he should have been able to show me what I was doing, he should have understood why (looking back, I understand why) and stick through it. He didn’t. He left. Yes, it hurts. And yes, I’m okay. I definitely wouldn’t have thought it possible for me to cry on the phone to someone about it. And it’s okay, It’s all okay. And what isn’t okay, well, that too is okay. I don’t mean that it’s ‘okay’ that it is. The word okay here means to me that it is what it is. That it’s my reality. That wanting it to be different won’t change it. It just is. And I can either fight it or let it be. Fighting it doesn’t change it. I don’t need to feel guilty for it. And if I do, well, I just do. It just is. And it’s allowed to be. It’s okay.
I feel like I started off saying one thing and getting completely sidetracked. The main thing I was trying to put down is that in my life, this is what I want to be applying always. To acknowledge whatever is. Accept it. If I can, accept myself with it. And let it be/move on.
How do you move on? How do you handle it when you want to mess up?