My Disease of Perception

I don’t think I’ve ever been a whole, happy, person. I’ve prided myself on being a half glass full kind of girl and yet I’m really a glass half empty kind of girl who ironically still sees meaning in all of life’s lessons. I crave happiness, I desire it really. And while I’ve had glimmers of it through my life, I don’t feel that it has been consistent. I don’t feel that I have been able to master genuine, long-term happiness.

I feel like I am easily bored and seek stimulation by staying busy. I work a lot to pass the time and yet I am reaching this pivotal place where work no longer distracts me in the ways that it did. My threshold is closing, and I am seeking calm and relaxation and yet I am struggling to find a balance that is authentic and true to who I am fundamentally. I need moments of calm to balance the busy and that is a hard balance to find while also dealing with a slew of emotions that at times are too difficult to bare.

I like to work, I like to explore, I like to stimulate my mind, and that in many ways has been my problem. Constantly seeking outside sources to find a happiness that is fulfilling. As I’ve gotten older and even more recently, I am realizing that happiness can be compared to addiction if not sought out in health ways. By numbing I am simply achieving a temporary high and as soon as that high fade away no matter how long it lasted, the unhappiness comes back, and the crash can be unbearable. With the crash then comes shame and guilt because when I crash, I bring people down with me.

Admitting this out loud is quite painful for me. I feel ashamed of this admission because so much of me believes in the value of life and appreciates life, and the people in it, on a much higher level because of how swiftly it can be taken away from us. Perhaps the biggest issue I have is not how I see life but how I see myself in this life. I love my people. The people that I can count on when things aren’t going how I had thought or expected. Those people who see me as loveable and good even when my actions would depict otherwise.

I feel like I’m going to die sometimes from the torture of this pain. The pain between my happiness and providing my children with the stability they so desperately demand. Can I choose myself over them? Is choosing me, the only way they will ever be able to have me as a whole, healed, healthily attached person? When it comes to my children, I do not misrepresent myself. I am a flawed mother who makes mistakes daily, who at times did not have room for my children’s feelings because mine were too big. I have yelled, invalidated, and told them their feelings were wrong all because I felt insecure about my place in this world. In my attempts to be seen and heard, I left little room for them, and I have chosen rather than sit in perpetual shame, to change the way that I interact with them. I am creating room for their feelings because their feelings are so much bigger than mine could ever be. I have choices in this life, and they don’t have that same flexibility. They are still children and I am responsible for being their guide, at least for the time being and I have not always been the best.

I wish I had known how unhealed I was before I said “I do” before I brought children into this world. But that was never my journey. My journey was to have something bigger than me to fight for. To demand more of myself because my children are watching me. I am growing two strong, intelligent girls into women and my responsibility to them is that they are empowered by my example. This is why my journey to heal, is now. I want to stop writing; I want to run away from this realization. But running is paramount of death because happiness is the key to my survival. It is the ingredient that has been missing.

This healing journey I am on is scary and intimidating. It takes me so far out of my comfort zone of control because it is asking me to attend to my anxious attachment issues. It is asking me to face the fact that I have spent a lifetime abandoning myself whether through addiction, control, of just a lack of appreciation for myself as a human being. In the last year or more, I have heard people tell me that to find happiness outside of myself, I need to find it within. I say this to my clients weekly, and yet I sometimes sit and think that it is a complete load of bullshit. Don’t exterior factors play into whether we truly are happy in this life? Does money, careers, friendships, partnerships not contribute to our overall happiness? I could argue this topic all day long because I think that it is all a matter of perspective. I think that all these things have a role in my overall happiness but if I look in the mirror and can’t stand what is reflected back then the rest means nothing. They assume their addictive role and the cycle perpetuates.

What I am starting to realize a lot more than ever is that my inner child has ruled over me for most of my adult life. I have so much pain and unresolved trauma that my inner child is yelling to be heard, to be seen, but most of all to be loved and while that is good for my healing because it is forcing me to sit with my pain, my experiences, my anger, it isn’t good for those around me. At times they are seeing an emotionally unregulated human who is acting out her deepest pains with them. Bullying them into submission like a rambunctious toddler would. The difference is that I am an adult not a toddler and my mind has the capacity to regulate itself. The only way that I can find true happiness is if I am willing to heal those parts of myself that are still in pain.

I am at war with myself right now. It is a daily battle between antiquated belief systems and truth seeking. A battle between how I measure success and living authentically. It is a battle that can be scary and difficult but that is forcing me to hold myself to a higher standard than ever before. I am forcing myself to trust myself more, to be more patient. I am trusting the wait. I am having faith in what my heart and mind tell me. I am sitting in discomfort more than ever. I am forcing myself to trust in what I know will lead me to my happiness.

My happiness has a name, it is not some obscure notion. It is a living breathing thing. It has feelings. It encompasses my future and my past. It is everything and anything I have ever wanted. It is truth seeking and authentic. It is my strength and my weakness. It is my desire and my comfort. It is everything that I have believed happiness could ever be. I can’t keep running away from myself or my emotions. I must honor my anger and the place that I am in at this time. I need to breathe life into my wounds, sit in the agony that these wounds have caused me. My happiness depends on it. Success is not measured by titles, yearly income, or any other superficial distraction. Success is quantified by how much love I can put out into the world and how well I love the others around me. I am done being ashamed of myself. There is no longer room for shame on my journey. Be my light and I will be yours.