cluttering the net since 2001

it's all a test..this thing we call life

Wednesday, Oct. 29, 2003
I've done alot of messed up things in my lifetime. Mostly I am self- destroying. I somehow believe I do not deserve to be happy. How and why does this happen? And how many puzzle pieces would I have to rip out of my past to un-do my mangeled belief that happiness is for the lucky.

I've read tons of self-help books and there are tons of diagnosis that can be made after reading any individual book. I promptly believe what someone told me today. I think I have a difficult time defining love. Yes a girl who spews forth beautiful words in poetic verse has a difficult time defining love for herself. Perhaps I do not know what love even is?

I suppose perhaps this goes back to having a motherless childhood. A childhood of course filled with wonderful memories all provided by others. Always left with that one giant gaping whole where mommy should have been. The feeling of floating attached to an umbilical cord without a destination. That's the best way I can describe it. My ex-husband drew a picture that brought me to tears, an umbilical cord reaching to the sky, meeting nothing, ending nowhere...attached to myself and a baby at the end. I am always left feeling half of what might have been.

Or perhaps it was the 12 yr long bout of trama I went through by marrying someone I barely knew while I also barely knew myself. Perhaps it was becoming that for which I had no example set, a mother myself. (though I credit my blue eyed boy for saving me from the pure evils of the path I might have taken were it not for his needing me to try..always try... to be more than everything he needed) Knowing him, how can I not know what love is? I know what it is to have love for my child, for that there can be no doubt. But perhaps...just perhaps I do not know what it is to be loved. I imagine my BF loves me with all that he is, and yet because I think I don't deserve to be loved, I doubt it. I wonder if it's there. I ask him constantly if everything is ok. I'm always waiting for that other shoe to drop. That load of disapointment that comes to me when I open my heart to someone. I have never loved without that following in the end. That disappointment that laughs in my face eventually.

Maybe there are a thousand reasons that I will always be messed up. Slightly or otherwise, depending upon the day. But perhaps none of this matters because I am slowly learning that I deserve to be happy on the inside, loved on the outside and wholly whomever I chose to be. I like myself for all that I have endured. For all that I have overcome. For the fact that I am not a judgemental person and I do not ever claim to see the entire picture without being a part of that picture. I love that I am creative, warm, friendly, and that I have god-given talents and use them to my advantage in life. I am proud of the girl that has overcome massive amounts of heartwrenching pain in the way of interpersonal relationships and yet I do still believe in the fairy tale. I like that I am the sort of person that will hug someone when they cry, I will listen when an ear is needed. I like that I am a responsible person and that I can cope with what most would crumble under. I like that I am sometimes fragile and that sometimes I even break. I like that I have much to give. Sure there are things I would like to change. I wish I didn't snore, I wish I were naturally a size 5 (what girl doesn't?) I wish I didn't have so much damage in my soul. I wish I could believe in myself more, doubt myself less. I wish I could go back and change things so that fewer people had to hurt. I wish I were a worldclass chef. I wish I had taken those flute lessons like I wanted to. I wish a lot of things had been different, but I do not wish my life away. I like who I am, sure I have a lot to work on, but that's the glory of life, there is a path and a workload for each of us. I do believe in Jesus, and I know he is testing me. If it were easy here, then there would be no heaven.

10:07 a.m. ::
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