Wishful Thinking

I don’t know when it started, maybe at birth? But at some point I realized that I was dragging around my life feeling unworthy of love, unworthy of friendship and unworthy of every kind emotion offered up to me. I felt like anyone showing me any kind of love was doing so out of pity and a feeling of guilt. They couldn’t possibly be doing it out of actual unconditional love because they didn’t know me, the “real” me and if they did they would quickly realize that I am not worthy of unconditional love.

This is what I allowed myself to think for as long as I can remember. I still think it occasionally now. The difference being that now I know its false. But that doesn’t make the thoughts any less painful. Any less real feeling.

When I start to have those “What’s wrong with me?” feelings I now try to stop myself and re-frame the thinking into something like “What’s right with me?!”

It is a midly successful endeavor and 6 out of 7 days I’ll go around thinking, “Hey, I’m Awesome.”

But then comes Day 7 and it’s not so great. All the insecurity, all the doubt, all the fear rears up and sucks me in and I am powerless against it. I try to fight it and push it away and again, I am usually successful nowadays. I have the tools in my toolbox to help me with this. But as many of my loved ones know, this past month or so I have been unable to push away the demons and I allowed them to suck me under for a bit. I spent time living in the house where I wasn’t good enough. Where I was worthless and alone for a reason. That no one loved me like I thought they did and that I was a burden on them with my sadness. I didn’t understand why anyone loved me because I was not a good person. It was all a lie, a fake out, I was pretending to be a good person so that I wouldn’t be alone.

(I know it’s silly)

The fact was and sometimes still is that I often feel alone. I have a family that loves me, I have friends that love me and whom I love and would do anything for and I have a wonderfully full and fun life. But I feel alone a lot of times. I feel like I carry the burden of my life upon my shoulders, unable to share it with anyone (yes, I am aware that EVERYONE does this). I am tired of it and I want to share it with someone. And yes, I know I deserve it but is it ever going to happen to me? I don’t know. None of you know. This is not to say that I am closed off to the idea, I just can no longer have the hope I once did for this to happen. Romantic love and I do not get along, never have and possibly never will (I say possibly, not never). If this is the case and I don’t find romantic love why cant I just be satisfied with what I have?

Why, as a race, are we never fully satisfied with the goodness and abundance we have?

These are big questions and I don’t have big answers for them. I don’t even have small answers for them. I just know that I work every single day at keeping the dark thoughts at bay (and its easier now than it once was) and I live in the hope that my life will always be this full of love, even if it is not necessarily the love I wish for.