“You’ll grow out of your insecurities with age”
“Everything will get easier, you’ll stop caring what others think”
Neither of these things are happening. They are changing, evolving even, but not going away. I think I’m morphing into something worse.
Some book I read told me to accept the way I am. Accept the shittiness I am. Part of me wants to do that.
The truth is that my mental illness ruins everything in my life. I’ve pushed friends away, put strain on family and friend relationships, complicated intimate relationships and also stressed close friends. People who love me can only be understanding for so long until they need to self preserve and walk away. I can’t fully accept myself without fully accepting the fact that I am undeserving of good friendships, which ironically is what I have. Somehow I’ve managed to have fantastic supports, but I am slowly destroying those too.
The complex part is that I know I am doing this but I am unable to stop. I guess I need to figure out my triggers, thought patters and incorrect coping skills to stop this pattern. But that doesn’t align with just “embracing myself” and “loving myself as is”.
Is accepting myself as-is only acceptable if I’m not considered mentally unstable? People who tend to fully love themselves happen to be wonderful people, I’m not. Part of me believes I don’t deserve to fully love myself because I am undeserving of that love due to being inadequate.
The duality of these thoughts cause more harm than good. I’m always walking a tightrope trying to balance between polar opposite ideas of how to move forward or manage myself. Decisiveness is something I need to apply to myself. I can be decisive at work and in helping others, but not with me. I can’t make a clear choice if two opposite choices/courses of action seem applicable. Which path is correct? Or should I just continue mowing down trees in the middle?
I live a life of having “one foot in and one foot out” and it’s complicated. Unable to fully decide to commit to anything may create more turmoil than I can handle. It then causes me to want to run from all things – work, friends, family, my home, my life, anything familiar to me. If I could just get away, I think, I could maybe get to the root of me, an unbiased voice that would possess a decisiveness, an authentic true voice.
Maybe I should show my psychiatrist these posts. Maybe there’s a medication that will make this war with myself stop. But then, if there is a God and I was created for a purpose, am I dulling that particular purpose by using medications?
I envy those who march with one foot in front of the other confidently. Never second guessing their choices because they are sure, so sure that they are on the path that’s best for them. It must be comforting to lack confusion and fighting thoughts from one source.