there is something incredibly freeing about admitting you’re a fuckup and are horribly flawed, and in honestly just being true to yourself.
I already got some flack about my last post — the one about how I had to spend some time in jail. and there’s still a small part of me that is rather regretful I’ve decided to be so open about everything — the cutting, the jail, the being a general nutbag, etc. but after a fairly short moment of shame, that small fearful part of me is silenced by what I deem to be the Truth, to be Freedom.
I’ve always been the goody-two-shoes, perfectionist, over-achieving mother hen. I always put everyone else before myself and take on the role of the exhausted martyr, all the while trying to hide behind lies of how well I’ve got my shit together and how successful and productive and motivated I am.
well, I’m done.
they let me out of jail at 8am today (Thu) instead of 2pm tmrw. but 2pm to 8am the next morning gives a person a lot of time to think and to feel. I did a lot of the former; and I’m grateful very little of the latter occurred. nevertheless, some did. but it was okay. I didn’t shed a single tear, and the moments of self-hatred and despair were surprisingly fleeting.
instead, there was a calmness, a sense of … I dunno … not quite serenity, but most definitely a kind of peace.
I texted the following to one of my online besties:
I’m just in a very fuck-it-all-anyway mood these last two months. getting a part-time, low-paying retail job — “eh, oh well”. two days in jail — “eh, oh well”. stupid-ass AA meetings — “eh, oh well”. am just tired of fighting; but am so exhausted and worn out, am too tired to even really give up … ya know?
and I’m not gonna lie — not giving a fuck it very freeing. it’s that brick of Fear shoved right off your chest, and suddenly you can breathe and move again.
I didn’t bother hiding my scars at all in there. and I’ve been comfortable in short sleeves almost this entire trip. I don’t care what these other people think anymore. they don’t know my struggles, they don’t know my issues, and they don’t even know all of my successes.
so fuck ’em.
“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
~ Marilyn Monroe
// mobile post via my screen-cracked Android \\