I don’t know why things happen. Perhaps there’s a reason. I truly believe some questions can’t be answered. Much of my life is a mystery. A problem that cannot be solved. Clearly: no one’s life is a PROBLEM. We have them, but they are not one. We got often get so entrenched with the idea of pleasing the world with what we could possibly do that we lose sight of the joy we already bring to life. I have experienced this is my life. I listened with great sadness as I heard someone say it, recently. Unfortunately, people fail to realize the elation they have to life: by simply being. They are unaware of the joy they add to life. I could say this about COUNTLESS people. People who say random kind words, open doors, carry groceries, help people when they see them struggling, etc. I do not think people are aware of how much those small acts mean. It is not always the big things that matter. Those small things within us often make a huge difference. Maybe we’re not meant to know. And I’m completely ok with that.
One would think my many problems would lay the foundation for full disillusion of anything positive. Surprisingly: the complete opposite is true. I am beyond grateful for every one of my problems: every second of my lite, It has all led to this present moment. A life beyond anything i could imagine. I have absolutely no clue what my life would be like had i chosen another path. Not to be morose, My death would basically be guaranteed. If by some miracle i remained alive: i would still be dead: if only on the inside.
So, yes: I am surprisingly grateful for everything. All the pain has led to this moment. This wonderful moment. My life is beyond amazing. My friends are more phenomenal than I could imagine. I have love in my life. Platonic and romantic and otherwise.My life is definitely not perfect . Amazing is rarely perfect.
Once I truly knew this. Believed this in my heart:
Everything in my life changed:
“Progress: Not Perfection.”
Seeing my loved ones live this concept: their ability to meet life with both grace and dignity. Acceptance. Their ability to lovethe world. Each other. Despite imperfections. To love and respect themselves. Yet walk through it all with no resentment. No hate. No judgement.
Knowing that lives are changed by example. Not through sheer will. That words are empty unless backed by action.
Witnessing the serenity. The sense of peace. Non-judgement.Tolerance.
The knowledge that acceptance does not mean giving up on everything.
But to not accept that fact that I , point blank, had certain issues: was causing so much self-hatred that I felt like my head would burst into flames. Like Ichabod Crane throwing his fiery pumpkin head at the world.
I believed that in acknowledging and accepting my alcoholism and eating disorder:
I had to give up. On everything. My dreams. My hopes.
That admission of the things would cause me to have a tattoo on my forehead. The world would needed to be warned that I was “ one of those bad people”.
I am an alcoholic. I don’t think that is even up for debate.
But the stark contrast between my sober life compared with my life bound by the chains of active use? That is clearly not debatable either.
Once I truly internalized these concepts: I was free.
To become all I dreamt of. For myself. The knowledge that I did not have to impress anyone. Prove anything to anyone: was freeing.
I had misentirpreted the idea of taking care of myself and my own needs as being selfish.
For some reason I believed I had to be willing to destroy myselffor humanity. I’m not quite sure why I thought this. Actually, Ido. There are many reasons. I would rather not list them.
So I was off. Like a bat out of hell. Unencumbered by an albatross around my neck. Free to fly.
All the dreams I had before everything started came rushing back. At warp speed.
Acknowledging that nothing in my life was a waste. That everything taught me a lesson. And so they had. And now I knew those lessons. And if I ignored them? I would be laying blame on others. Not taking responsibility for my life.
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