I’m praying every chance I can get
God please show me what to do,
I’m struggling, please guide me.
In the morning I wake up thinking
I choose to love myself
because I deserve my love.
I keep telling my story.
It gets exhausting telling my story.
I tell it to my friends. Therapists.
Anyone who will listen.
They all say, You got this.
It will all be okay in the end.
But I want someone to rescue me.
I want someone to come along
and make these problems disappear.
And God, Grace, The Universe,
or is it just my luck,
continues to send me people
who listen to my story
tell me You got this
and who walk away.
I need to solve my own problems.
Apparently, I need to realize
that I’m stronger than this.
Apparently, I need to walk this path alone.
There are people cheering on the sidelines,
but I guess I need to walk this path alone.*
*And I have to tell you, it’s lonely down here in this big black hole…
There’s a moment after hitting rock bottom
when you realize that you’re not dead.
Maybe, as you look around at where you are,
you wish you were dead,
but you’re still alive nonetheless.
Resistance will make you hurt worse.
Regret will keep you stuck in this place.
When you’ve stripped away everything
that you used as your former identity
and you find yourself, naked,
standing on rock,
it feels vulnerable, uncomfortable.
You look up…
and the light of day seems so far away.
The good news is,
you don’t have many decisions to make;
it’s very simple in this naked place
of bare, cold, hard, rock bottom.
There’s only one direction you can go—
I’m tired of living in terror,
so I’m turning this over to you.
I have no idea how you’ll help me.
I know that faith can move mountains,
but that I need to bring a shovel.
I’ve got my shovel.
So what WOULD happen
if I stopped trying so hard?
I mean, would the world spin off its axis?
Would the universe become unhinged?
Would people think less of me?
The answer is definitely NO to the first two,
and MAYBE to the third,
and in the end,
what does it really matter?
How do I stop trying so hard
after years and years and years
of my nervous system believing
that I would die if I didn’t?
I take a few breaths
and sigh loudly as I exhale.
I feel my body soften and relax.
My heart opens a little more,
my belly isn’t clenched so tightly,
the knots begin to untie.
None of this makes sense,
but maybe some of you can relate?
So many choices every moment,
and so humbled
by how much I do not know.
Wanting to grow, learn, discover,
wanting to become more
than I ever was before,
and then reality, like a brick wall,
and now I must face it.
Although he hasn’t been there
for me in almost two years,
I hear him still,
the voice in my head,
telling me I’m never good enough.
I think he is in me still,
but it is I, in me, replaying
his internalized voice
to perpetuate the shame spiral
that is much older than our relationship.
If I want to recover
I have to choose a new voice
and a new story.
And somewhere in there,
a way to embrace possibility
without running straight into
the brick wall.
Haven’t I given enough?
Can’t you love me now?
Can’t you accept me now?
Can’t you see how hard I try?
You owe me.
What? You don’t want
the kind of love I want?
You want freedom?
You want lightness
You want what you want?
Wait. You’re leaving?
You think this is all my fault?
We can work this out.
I can admit to my faults.
Can you admit to yours?
This is all my fault, really?
Relationships are so complicated.
Who needs ’em?
I came to realize that so much of my life energy
was being poured into thinly disguised attempts to be seen,
heard, held, cherished, loved…
and these attempts never yielded the results I sought.
I asked myself why I was giving my power away like that.
I asked myself to cut it out already.
And then I asked myself,
Wait a minute…can I see myself?
Can I hear myself?
Can I hold myself?
Can I cherish myself?
Can I love myself?
And I discovered that yes,
yes I can.