I’ve kinda been living in my head these past months. I’ve come up for air a few times. Looked at either the first posts in my reader, or a few of those in my notifications or emails. I’m not sure who decides what shows where. I haven’t been around recently. Not on here. (Nor on instagram, email, or real life friends either).
Anyways. I just wanted to say that I’m thinking of you all. I’m not naming people but I do mean you. I’m grateful you’ve been a part of my journey. I’m grateful that you are a part of my journey. And, I’m thinking of you. I know I’m not around much, and that’s nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. It’s taking my everything to just do what I am.
I’d love to hear how you’re doing. If you’re happy to share that is.
Lotsa sunshine, sparkles, hugs, and peace
What acts of kindness have you seen, heard, read, or done recently?
So many words
So many words
So many words
As the letters
In my head
So many words
Saying yes, taking responsibility, gave me the right to exist. K, so I’m speculating here, but I’m trying to put my thoughts into words, and either it’s true, or it’s not. I’m going to put it down. And it could be I’ll turn around one day and say that this is nonsense.
I grew up feeling responsible for others.
I grew up feeling guilty for existing. The guilt comes from the fact that through existing, by living, I’m hurting others. That’s not just speculation or a kids thoughts. It’s still the reality today. By existing I’m hurting someone. By living I have hurt people. Not through anything I did. Just through existing. One of those people have changed a lot. I no longer hurt her through my existence. I’m not blaming myself here. I never did anything wrong. That person was threatened by my existence. I did nothing to cause that. It was her issue. She’s changed. The person I still hurt through existing has special needs, mental health difficulties etc and will not be able to change. The fact is I hurt her by living. I don’t think I feel guilty for it any longer. I used to. By now I know it’s not my problem. There are others I hurt by being me. It’s not my existence that hurts them, but that I’m me. And if I ever truly live my own life I’ll really hurt my parents.
The guilt for living has played a big role in my life. I still don’t believe I’m allowed to exist, however I don’t feel guilty for those people.
I’m wondering if giving to others, being whatever others needed me to be, justified my existence somewhat. I’m here, and I shouldn’t be here, because I’m hurting people, their lives would be better without me, if I’m making other peoples lives better, maybe it balances that out. Makes it somewhat okay that I’m living, even though I shouldn’t be. Balances out the pain I’m causing to others.
The only problem there lies that giving gives meaning to my life. I love giving to others. Not because I have to. Not because it justifies my existence. But because I love giving.
When I said that saying no goes against my nature R’R commented nature or conditioning?
I think both. Conditioning is that I’m not allowed to exist. Nature is I love to give. Whether by nature or by nurture I feel others. Whether that’s inherent or something I had to develop or both. When I was speaking to E she told me about her arm hurting. I felt the pain in my own arm. Not physically, but yes physically. I don’t know how to explain it. Her pain hurt me. I don’t really know what physical agony feels like. I know I’ve experienced physical agony – when I got burned (I’d say burned myself but that sounds like I caused it. Someone dropped a pot. Thankfully of water!!!!! It could have been the oil pot…) and my arm was debrided – do not google. I wrote a poem then about pain. I don’t recall the pain. I recall hating others doing things for me. I couldn’t do anything because I couldn’t use my arm at all…
I feel others pain. I want to take their pain and take it away from them. I feel others pain too much. It’s funny how I so feel others pain yet cannot feel anything about or for myself. Though then again my life was a pretty calm, good life.
Anyways, the point I was making is that I love to give. And that giving gives meaning to my life. And that I wonder if giving was a way for me to justify my existence.
This is also why I think I don’t ADHD. Because I go back to what I started off with. A past friend once said to me that she loved how though I’d jump from A, to B, to C, I’d always go back to A, to B, to C.
I began writing about saying no. And I wanted to continue it.
I said no. I actually said no.
It’s both strange, and awesome. Amazing that I put myself first.
I was asked to do something really small. It wasn’t really what I was asked to do that was hard. It was that she constantly calls me. That she can call me 5 times in a day. Every time she needs my help. It’s too much. It was the way she’d tell me not to worry when I couldn’t help. It was too much for me. So this time when she asked I said no. When the other day she asked if I can check something up on the internet I told her that I wouldn’t be able to do anything on the internet for her.
I called my friend E to tell her that I said no. E said that she thinks I always felt responsible for others happiness. I think it’s more than that. I’ve felt responsible for their lives. When S said she was going to kill herself, that meant it’s my responsibility for her to live.
I’ve always been responsible. Not for peoples happiness. For their okayness. So when said friend needed something, I had to do it. Because it’s my responsibility.
Which of course. It isn’t.
A person can only carry a certain amount of responsibility. When I took responsibility for everyone I never took any responsibility for myself. Over the past couple years I’ve been letting go of the responsibility I was holding for others and taking responsibility for myself. Then finding the balance of still asking for help because when I took responsibility for myself I had to go to the other extreme first. Hey. I think I’m actually doing that. Not that I can easily ask for help. I can’t. I can accept help and take responsibility for myself.
So the instagram post I shared above is really why I started writing this. I just haven’t actually done so. I guess I’ll continue in another post as this is too disjointed.