Anxious

So much anxiety. I can't focus on anything. I'm completely distracted and I have trouble reconnecting myself to anything that doesn't involve leading a team.

My manager role was incredibly self defining. I know I'm more than that of course but I'm not sure how to use those parts.

I'm loving the life I'm in now. I truly enjoy getting up and watering the plants, tidying up the kitchen and leisurely enjoying my coffee. I'm trying to write more but sometimes inspiration is quiet.

I'm literally forcing myself to write this today because maybe if I feel like I've really accomplished something I won't feel so anxious.

Writing that, it sounds like I just need to go back to work. But the thought of doing that right now kind of makes the anxiety worse. I know I could have a few options if I was ready for them but I feel so mixed up right now. I know I wouldn't be helpful.

I am most worried about money. God how I hate money. I hate that I need it to enjoy a lot of the things that I like to do. Even just wandering around a new city costs money.

I'm worried that despite his gentle assurances that it won't, resentment will build within my fella and our relationship will suffer. I want so much to feel confident is his understanding and the fact that I struggle with it bothers me. It's all inside my head and I don't know how to let it go.

Except through writing. So I'm here. Forcing the words out.

I worry about driving too and how I'm not doing it. I need to learn how but first I need to visit the DMV and that in itself is a bit of a chore because I don't have the money to update my ID/permit. Again. MONEY. I joke about selling my ovaries but seriously...I have just gone from working more than full time to not working at all.

I am working hard to adjust from complete independence to total dependence. I am trying but today...fuck I feel anxious.

I have a coffee date with an old coworker. Maybe that's part of it. I know the conversation will inevitably come around to whether or not I'll return and I'm just not ready. But how do I say that without seeming ungrateful for the offer?

I know I have to do what's best for me but I'm not sure what that is right now.

I just want peace.

Jump

I was walking down the sidewalk behind my group of friends. We were wandering around Broadway after dark and all the shops were closed. I saw a photo in a store front window and stopped.

The man in the photo was wearing a three piece suit. He was falling from a skyscraper's window in haunting black and white. I was transfixed and drowning in morbid curiosity instantly. Why did he jump? Did he have to break the window? What did he think of as he was falling? Did he think of anyone before he met the ground? 

What did the photographer think? He had to have known there was nothing he could do... His muse was destined to fall. Perhaps the realization came to the photographer suddenly? He somehow thought, with just a quick reach for the camera, a man's life is...suspended, forever frozen in wondrous, weightless flight. And not...death.   

Eventually my friends noticed I wasn't laughing alongside them and they came back to pull me from the window. I never saw the photo again.  I looked for it every time I was on Broadway and that was a lot when I was seventeen and coffee at midnight was cool.

I wonder who bought it.

Weirdo

The tv was on for noise and one of those eharmony commercials came on. I wasn't really paying attention but the music caught my ear. The voiceover says jovially, "Isn't it time you started looking for your perfect person?"

And without even thinking about it, I responded, "Already did."

Ok, I know it sounds cheesy. And maybe a little weird. I was talking to a tv commercial after all. But the reaction washed over me like a splash of sunlight. I just know.

I've said that many times over the years and each time I thought I was sure. In the past,  as I told myself everything was fine, or that 'he' was the one...even as I smiled and swooned with friends...I was always a little doubtful.

That's what is so completely amazing about now. I have never had even one second of doubt or wonder. I know with every inch of my heart that I am exactly where I should be.

I feel... full. Happy and content. I know I'm loved. And appreciated. And respected. And all the things I've always deserved and only pretended I had before.

The lies we tell ourselves are the most cruel. The truth always comes and when it does it's cold and hard. It slices in and rips out the heart that had dare love again. It brings pain that lingers for what seems like always. It makes you wish you'd just kept believing the lies.

But you start to heal. It takes longer for some and it's always different. But you heal. And you start to believe again. Every time, a little stronger and wiser.  The heart that had been so wounded becomes proud of its scars. A survivor.

Ready to live.

It wasn't until my heart had survived that I  finally began to be ok with who I am. So many people had advised me this is how it would happen but I wasn't ready to hear them. I already thought I was ok.

I've changed. Something inside clicked and it felt like I was finally able to breathe. I felt the confidence others had assured me was there. I knew I could be myself. My muppet loving, Star Wars obsessed, book sniffing, singing to the cats crazy person that I am. I knew someone would be mine and appreciate all that weirdness and even if they never did...I would. I would love me.

And I do.
And it's because I do...that I can love him.

I Am Loved

When I was 25 or so, I wasn't happy. I was miserable actually. I ate poorly and lived on my couch watching movies, loathing myself. I cried a lot and had moments where I didn't know who I was. I didn't care.

But I had friends that cared about me and they tried to help. They got me out of the house. It didn't feel like they were helping me at the time. Being around other people and dealing with...well, life, was a sort of sick torture. I wasn't going through a phase-I was incredibly depressed and eventually...suicidal. 

I remember being in the car with some friends. We were out on a drive, smoking pot and listening to music. I had rolled the window down and laid my head on the door. I blinked into the cold air and stayed that way until my face grew numb. My friend driving turned to me, "You ok?"

I didn't answer until he asked me again. I finally responded, "Do you ever just not care if you live or die?"

At that moment, I really wanted to know. If he had that thought go through him too, maybe I wasn't crazy. Maybe I'd be ok. 

He just kind of looked at me and then returned his focus to the road. I remember hoping we'd crash. 

Another day, when I was feeling a little better, I was at the mall. I walked by a store that had a bowl full of buttons on display. Bright red buttons with white letters telling me "I Am Loved".  I took one and attached it to my purse. 

It stayed there a long time. When I was visiting my therapist, I could see it on the strap, reminding me, I Am Loved. When I'd call and talk to my parents, it was there. If I was working and I needed it, I could just glance at my purse under the counter and know...I Am Loved. 

I got better. 

Recently, while I was packing, I came across the button. It was in a bag with other memories, a bit rusted around the pin but still bright red with white letters. I Am Loved. 

I held it in my hand and let myself remember who I'd been 15 years ago. That button had helped me mend. Every time I saw it, I read those three words and over time, I began to believe it. And trust it. And eventually...accept it. 

After a moment, I put the button back in the bag. 

I didn't need it anymore.