Wake Up Call
Learning that you're wrong is difficult. Often, it's a matter of pride that gets in the way of understanding that the way you see or do things is not right. And God, did I ever get a huge slap to the face.
These past few days have been a slow process in waking up: waking up to a reality less controlled by my own emotions that I didn't even realize I had trouble controlling. The amount of hurt the people I loved had to stomach just so I can finally realize my mistakes only testifies to how deeply I've been entrenched in my own old pain; I was so self-absorbed in wallowing in that pain that my selfishness permeated every single relationship. I shut out my family and pinned the blame for our unhappy relations on them, convinced that they didn't care about me. I let my loving, selfless boyfriend shoulder the responsibility for my emotional needs until he was exhausted. I let myself forget about my friends who aren't a part of my daily routine, because out of sight, out of mind, and if people truly wanted to spend time with me, they would, right? I don't know at which point it happened, but I let go of myself and everything I truly believed in and let my pain pull my strings. It's true when people say that the meanest people are the most unhappy.
My problem was that I kept denying and denying that I was unhappy yet was fully convinced I was doing right by myself in putting myself first and believing others should do the same.
Yeah, Peggy. What the fuck?
That's not all, either. I realized that I have a problem of fixating on one thing, often actively seeking out flaws and creating them in my mind if they weren't there. I fixated on a person I love. I made him the center of my attention, the sun to my earth. Too much love and attention is a poison. I forgot that anything in excess is unhealthy, so meticulously intent on the one person I thought could fix me, out of the simple reason that he made me feel good. And I reaaaally wanted to feel good.
Clarity is such a gift, and for years I thought I had it. I was so righteous in my ability to understand my own emotions and I am. But the important part is that I was too afraid to dig deeper, to learn the roots of those emotions. I think that was because I already knew what was at the core of all my problems.
I was the problem.
Denial is such a dangerous thing. Coupled with a vindictive desire to show the world that hurt me that I was stronger than it, a self-righteous belief that I come first before everyone in my life, I became exactly the kind of person I despise.
Eventually, I came to another realization. In part, all of this had to do with the way I bought into all the social media "inspiration posts": the Instagram poems, Tumblr inspos, and "influencers" who broadcasted that there is a specific way to think, to react to negativity, to live the healthiest and most soul-fulfilling life. To be sure, I'm not shifting the entire blame onto social media because I should have known better. I should have been stronger and decided for myself what to believe. But now I know that all of the adults present during my youth who told me that it's important to think critically as an adult knew that all of the media and advertising would be a huge threat to the control we have over our thoughts.
I was wrong. It took years for me to realize that, and so much emotional damage has been wrought by my hand. It's ironic that the ones I've hurt the most were the ones who woke me up... it'll take a long time for me to forgive myself and just as long to re-orient my priorities and mental habits. Thankfully, I'm not so far gone that I haven't taken the first step, which is to apologize to those that I've hurt. However, with the amount of hurt I've caused people closest to me, I just hope it's not too late to save those relationships. The next step is to re-shape my mind--an endeavor that promises to be difficult when I've grown accustomed to a certain kind of thinking. But I need to change. To truly let myself be happy, I have to change my thinking. To be the partner my boyfriend deserves, I need to change my behavior. To be the daughter my parents deserve, I need to change my priorities.
And that's the thing about a lot of those posts on social media. So many of them promote the idea that it's a negative thing to want to change for others. It's not, though. It truly isn't. Not when you are the problem. Not when you're the one who is hurting the people around you.
I admit that throughout the day, my mind fluctuates and it's pretty scary. Often, I can't tell what's right or wrong, what's good or bad for me. The mind can feel like a cavernous hall of mirrors when you don't recognize its contours; everything seems slightly off. However, I can admit that a part of me--that brick that never fit right in the foundation of everything that is me--feels more at peace. Relieved to have my life make more sense. It feels... good to come back to myself. To feel like my mind is just a little clearer. Now, if I can make things right and do right by the people I've hurt, I think the rest of the fog will clear.
These past few days have been a slow process in waking up: waking up to a reality less controlled by my own emotions that I didn't even realize I had trouble controlling. The amount of hurt the people I loved had to stomach just so I can finally realize my mistakes only testifies to how deeply I've been entrenched in my own old pain; I was so self-absorbed in wallowing in that pain that my selfishness permeated every single relationship. I shut out my family and pinned the blame for our unhappy relations on them, convinced that they didn't care about me. I let my loving, selfless boyfriend shoulder the responsibility for my emotional needs until he was exhausted. I let myself forget about my friends who aren't a part of my daily routine, because out of sight, out of mind, and if people truly wanted to spend time with me, they would, right? I don't know at which point it happened, but I let go of myself and everything I truly believed in and let my pain pull my strings. It's true when people say that the meanest people are the most unhappy.
My problem was that I kept denying and denying that I was unhappy yet was fully convinced I was doing right by myself in putting myself first and believing others should do the same.
Yeah, Peggy. What the fuck?
That's not all, either. I realized that I have a problem of fixating on one thing, often actively seeking out flaws and creating them in my mind if they weren't there. I fixated on a person I love. I made him the center of my attention, the sun to my earth. Too much love and attention is a poison. I forgot that anything in excess is unhealthy, so meticulously intent on the one person I thought could fix me, out of the simple reason that he made me feel good. And I reaaaally wanted to feel good.
Clarity is such a gift, and for years I thought I had it. I was so righteous in my ability to understand my own emotions and I am. But the important part is that I was too afraid to dig deeper, to learn the roots of those emotions. I think that was because I already knew what was at the core of all my problems.
I was the problem.
Denial is such a dangerous thing. Coupled with a vindictive desire to show the world that hurt me that I was stronger than it, a self-righteous belief that I come first before everyone in my life, I became exactly the kind of person I despise.
Eventually, I came to another realization. In part, all of this had to do with the way I bought into all the social media "inspiration posts": the Instagram poems, Tumblr inspos, and "influencers" who broadcasted that there is a specific way to think, to react to negativity, to live the healthiest and most soul-fulfilling life. To be sure, I'm not shifting the entire blame onto social media because I should have known better. I should have been stronger and decided for myself what to believe. But now I know that all of the adults present during my youth who told me that it's important to think critically as an adult knew that all of the media and advertising would be a huge threat to the control we have over our thoughts.
I was wrong. It took years for me to realize that, and so much emotional damage has been wrought by my hand. It's ironic that the ones I've hurt the most were the ones who woke me up... it'll take a long time for me to forgive myself and just as long to re-orient my priorities and mental habits. Thankfully, I'm not so far gone that I haven't taken the first step, which is to apologize to those that I've hurt. However, with the amount of hurt I've caused people closest to me, I just hope it's not too late to save those relationships. The next step is to re-shape my mind--an endeavor that promises to be difficult when I've grown accustomed to a certain kind of thinking. But I need to change. To truly let myself be happy, I have to change my thinking. To be the partner my boyfriend deserves, I need to change my behavior. To be the daughter my parents deserve, I need to change my priorities.
And that's the thing about a lot of those posts on social media. So many of them promote the idea that it's a negative thing to want to change for others. It's not, though. It truly isn't. Not when you are the problem. Not when you're the one who is hurting the people around you.
I admit that throughout the day, my mind fluctuates and it's pretty scary. Often, I can't tell what's right or wrong, what's good or bad for me. The mind can feel like a cavernous hall of mirrors when you don't recognize its contours; everything seems slightly off. However, I can admit that a part of me--that brick that never fit right in the foundation of everything that is me--feels more at peace. Relieved to have my life make more sense. It feels... good to come back to myself. To feel like my mind is just a little clearer. Now, if I can make things right and do right by the people I've hurt, I think the rest of the fog will clear.
Comments
Post a Comment