My Life Matters

I've been working on getting reacquainted with myself and doing other stuff that involves taking inventory of the internal dialogs and other factors in life that have affected how I see myself and how much influence this has had on my life. I've worked on self help stuff in the past, although this is the first time I have come so far in my journey to self. It's amazing, interesting, enlightening, and somewhat sad.

Sad because for so many years I've allowed others to define who I am, what parts of my life matter, what parts don't and should be erased, and have allowed some to convince me I'm just a messed up emotional basket case, a really sick person.

I think of the cults out there, the gangs and how it is that a small group of people, who are strangers in the beginning, can have such an affect and hold on its members. I'm understanding that more because in a lot of ways, I've allowed my life to be managed in the same way.  Not knowing who I am or my identity made me vulnerable to other's deciding for me. I'm a Star Gate fan and I remember something Tilk said a few years ago and it stuck with me. He said, "To resist the influence of others, knowledge of one's true self is most important". How true and yesterday I saw the full effect of the influence others have had as a result of me not knowing.

Last night I started crying a little and have been crying this morning as I wrote in my journal. Something TH had said, even though it was not derogatory and was kind, triggered some emotions inside me. At first I didn't understand why I was crying, it had been a productive day. I did some work outside and a lot of work inside doing my assignments. I was pleased with myself. So why the tears?

I realized it was just a release, not anything to analyze or pick a part. Just like some people vent, one of my outlets is crying.

As I was writing my letter to God this morning, sorting through my thoughts and questions, I realized how I had allowed a few people to convince me that the 15 years I was sober didn’t matter. I had started drinking again, so all the work I did over that 15 years didn’t mean anything and I was really on a dry drunk and sick, and that’s why I had returned to drinking. My x-to-be was the main person who convinced me of this. It was like prior to when I got sober again four years ago, my life was non-existent. It didn’t mean anything other than I was really messed up and hurt a bunch of people. Anything I perceived as being good was my imagination and justification for being a self-centered, self-will run riot, and self-serving person.

What a crock! A huge pile of crap I bought into! All of my life matters!

 When TH said that she likes who she is and sometimes people unknowingly sabotage their efforts, it was like a light bulb went off in my head. I’m not that different that anyone else, other than maybe how I perceive things. And up til recently my perception of things have been fed to me from others, messages I bought into and decided was true.

My life is not beginning today nor did it begin two months ago when I separated from my hb. My life began the day I was born and everything I have done up until this point in time has mattered. The good and the bad mattered and are not to be erased. The struggles I had taught me valuable lessons. The times in between when I was doing the best I could to be a decent person mattered and is not to be erased just because I stumbled and fell down. Stumbling and falling down does not mean I’m a horribly sick person, it means I’m human. Like others, I tend to get comfortable in what’s familiar and resist change. I do this because I’m human, not because I have a crazy disease that separates me from the rest of the world.

I like who I am today and there have been many times in the past when I’ve liked who I was. I’m acknowledging that today for perhaps the first time. And wow, what a powerful and wonderful feeling it is to discover I am part of the human race. Not lesser than, not more than, but an equal entity connected to those around me.

I feel a little different today, but not in a way that sets me apart from others. Something is missing and something else has taken its place. I don’t feel disconnected anymore, nor do I feel the need to let others define who I am or where I came from. It’s a good feeling, and a little scary. Scary because it’s new and things are going to change. I have the tendency to resist this and sabotage myself, but I told myself I don’t have to keep doing that. History doesn’t have to repeat itself; knowing who I am and embracing all of me, will help ensure that it doesn’t.