It’s a few days into the year, and I already feel like it’s time to purge. So, this is me creating a space for me to do just that. Here is where I will write about my feelings concerning self and sex and sexuality and spirituality and life and love and whatever-the-fuck-else I choose to write.
This digital space is my open diary.
I woke up a few days ago and asked myself, “is this all there is for me?” Translation: Is this sad ass life filled with mediocrity, stress, and unfilled purpose something I want to continue participating in for the remainder of my time spent here on earth?
Myself responded with a bellowing “hell nawl.”
Much of last year consisted of me bumping my head on the floor of rock bottom. I’d come out of a toxic relationship; my love of self had decreased drastically. Professionally I was at a stand-still, and even more personally, I’d finally become one with the fact that I was fucked up mentally, emotionally and spiritually.
2016 went like this:
I cried. I prayed. I went to therapy. I went to the gym. I stopped going to the gym. I drank myself to sleep more than I did not. I became reclusive. I got jealous at the smiles other people wore. I found out just how much my mom’s love and sacrifice had no limits. I fought the spiritual tug-of-war that was going on within in me. I became one with my misery and for a moment (or 2 months), I relished in that misery. Then, I started to get sick and tired of being sick and tired. I didn’t like who I had become. I began engaging in a relationship with self by asking myself hard questions. As a result, I found out I didn’t know who I was. At least not who my authentic self was. This caused me to sort through, and I’m still doing this, all of my baggage. In the most draining yet awesomely liberating way; honestly and transparently.
Now I just want better. I don’t want to be attached to my fuck-ups. I don’t want to be addicted to my brokenness. I want to acknowledge my mess, feel my way through all of it and still thrive despite it being there. I want to live. I have lost the desire to get back to my newborn state of perfection. I realize that this world has put so much on me that perfection is an impossible feat. I do want to be better, though. Feel free to grab a drink and join me on the ride. Or just watch me. Either way, it’s only up from here.
Also published on Medium.