I used to call myself a writer and was proud of my accomplishments. In my zeal to help others feel good about their writing I have torn my self to bits. I have done this to my self. No help; like I was ashamed to be considered any good. What is wrong with me? Why do I do that?
Time has marched on and I met some really great friends and again I start telling myself I don’t deserve such friends. Are you beginning to see a pattern? Yeah, so am I. Only it’s taken me years to really get this far.
Lately I think of what I want from life and how happy that would make me. The next minute I’m in anguish trying to find solutions to get my dreams materializing. Today the place at the beach got flushed. My niece is selling her home and moving to Sweden. No, can’t buy it, lots of money needed for that one.
My entire life cannot be one big “boo-boo” right now can it? A friend of mine reminded me that according to the “Changes 12-step program” “feelings are not facts.” These feelings hurt, so am I being hurt by invisible assassins?
For the last three months I’ve heavily relied on people to help me understand; some more than others. I don’t feel like playing a dying martyr to my own death so I’m challenging myself to find more solutions and new ones for the ones that have evaporated.
I’m returning to writing. If I move I’ll let you know. If I have great friends they’ll show up here when they can. When I get divorced I’ll throw a party. And when I flush those feelings I’ll be back to being dcrelief!!