I used to believe that I was an inherently difficult person. I used to think that I would always be a deeply tortured soul. It was my destiny. It was also my destiny that I would break any man’s heart who wanted to be in my life, because I was just emotionally-unavailable enough that they would always want the more they could never have. They would end up having to leave because it was too painful for them to never fully connect with me, they loved me and themselves too much to stay. Talk about melodrama. I held onto these self-pitying thoughts like my life depended on it. It was how I validated myself, because deep down what I felt was not strong conviction about how desirable I was, and too bad so sad for you my friend, but an incredibly weak sense of self-esteem, and I just had to be armed to the teeth in self-defenses, that I would, of course, try heroically to break down but never fully could, the tragic fate of a yet another brilliant artist. I was so weak, in fact, that I had zero faith in my ability to change whatsoever. If I had had any faith, I wouldn’t have told myself these stories, I would have recognized them as the first thing that needed to go. Naturally, telling myself all sorts of lies trying to pump myself up were intimately coupled with equally destructive and false ideas that were bringing others down, and not just any others, not just some girl on the street I thought was prettier than me, although I’m sure she was a mental target at some point too, the people that got the worst of my jealousy were the ones closest to me, my best friends. They probably have no idea I ever felt so intensely envious of them, even loathed them at some points for what I thought should rightfully be mine, but it is true, and it’s high-time to let these silly, useless, life-sucking ideas go, fly away, return to the ether and be purified. I have a life to live! And I don’t want to be weighed down by false beliefs ANYMORE!
I used to believe that I would always be just a little bit unhappy, because those were the cards that fate had dealt me. Now I know that I’ll always be a little bit unhappy only if I don’t do the work, if I don’t cleanse my soul and release my pain to the only “person” who is big enough to contain it all. This sounds so cheesy, but Martina McBridge, a country singer, has a song called “Love’s the only house (big enough for all the pain in the world)” and I think she pretty much nailed it on the proverbial head. Love, God, Spirit, the cosmos, I’m turning it all over to you, because to think that I’m strong enough on my own would be my most false idea yet.