On self care, and loving yourself.
There was a time not too long ago when I was so incredibly self-loathing and tired of life that I wanted desperately to leave Laura on a park bench somewhere and run off on her so she wouldn’t follow me around anymore.
When you have negative thought patterns, everything you encounter you will encounter as a negative experience. Motives around help, love and friendship will be questioned. Any positive energy or encouragement from others will escape you through a wonderfully unhelpful thought-sieve. Your heart can become so heavy that you find yourself dragging your feet just to get around. There can be no purpose to your days because everything you do is worthless.
When you’re around people who bring you down it’s inevitable that your confidence will eventually be eroded until you either die, or hit your bum on rock bottom. And after you hit bottom, you can either stay there for the rest of your life, or take the risky decision to venture back up and take ownership of your life.
When I finally snapped, it was like I was literally gasping for air. Small steps over many, many months have led me to where I am now.
A genuinely happy person, as I always presented -but never truly felt- to the world.
I volunteer for the intrinsic good I feel, the happiness it brings others and the brighter place I perceive the world to be. My friendships are less numerous in number but deeper in scope. I’m filled with optimism around goals and future plans for myself. I can tolerate (and sometimes even embrace) spending time alone with me, myself and I.
Now I don’t rely so much on my confidence and happiness from others validation, but through my own actions. I can ‘do’ good to feel good. Today passion, new experiences and Damon get me up in the mornings.
Life is what you make it, and I take full responsibility for my life and my actions. Being an atheist, I don’t believe I’m going to heaven (or hell for that matter) but I do believe that I should be grateful for my life as many people have their lives, or their loved one’s lives cut short before their time.
Recovery, in both senses of the word. I’ve recovered my life, through recovery. I owe so much of to my family and friends who have stuck by me and loved me through every annoying episode of self-doubt. Damon as my PIC with his calmness, patience and kindness especially. I truly believe that being loved for who you are is one of the greatest experiences. Although I’m not yet 23, I would still hope to believe this for the rest of my life.
Thanks for reading!
Let me know if you can relate to this post or if I’m just rambling on!