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| Lord, I don't know what it is that you're doing or planning, but I'm angry that you've allowed me to endure this pain for so long without showing me an out, an end or a purpose. I think I would be a little more willing to endure if I knew what it was I'm supposed to learn from this experience.
I'm angry because this pain is taking away from and interrupting my life. I'm just trying to move on and let my head control things, but my heart just isn't allowing the transition. Why, God? Why have you granted so many other people blessed, happy lives and content, stable relationships when it seems that you just keep shitting on mine?
I don't enjoy being overly sensitive and emotional, and I'm most certainly tired of falling asleep and waking up with tear-stained pillows. The crying has turned into an excessive waste of energy rather than a controlled outlet.
I am completely unsatisfied with our relationship. I want you to either make things blatantly clear, numbingly obvious, or to take away this awful feeling that's crippling my life because, so far, I've had no successes. Teach me my lesson and move on or heal it. | | |
| We're done. We're done and there's absolutely no going back. Period, the end. And only two weeks ago, he missed me. Now, there's someone else's "beautiful hazel eyes and great conversation." Fuck YOU. Keep you and your fickle self away from me, please.
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| So, after having this book called How to heal a broken heart in 30 days, for roughly 15 months and never reading it, and two failed relationships later, I've decided to sit down and read, practice the exercises within and really learn how to deal with my emotions and heal all the dumb shit that makes me an angry, sorrowful and cynical person. Sure, I've already read the first two chapters when I'm only supposed to read one a day, but I figured that was alright, as my recent relationship ended this past Sunday rather than today or yesterday. Monday and Tuesday were definitely terrible for me, but we're getting past the crying stages.
Anyway, there's an exercise for the first day, Independence Day, where I sign a contract to myself. I don't really have any witnesses, so here it is in my records. I've also adopted a "Plan of Action," another exercise for day one.
I, Sierra, declare that I am sick of feeling that my heart is less than whole. I am going to stop feeling reduced, diminished, less than whole. I intend to feel myself grow once again. I want to love and be loved, on an enduring, fulfilling, and equitable basis. And perhaps even passionately, if my heart someday proves ready to take that chance.
For the next thirty days, I am going to do all the work requires to repair my heart so I can move forward in my life. I am going to put the pieces back together better than I have ever done so before. I am going to become my own person: autonomous and whole.
I have no idea if my ex and I may someday get back together. It doesn't matter. I am going through with this breakup because I must end my old, self-destructive way of dealing with our relationship. I am not going to call or speak to my ex for any reason but to negotiate any unresolved terms of our parting. I know that any hopes for reconciliation that I may now entertain will cause me more hurt than will ending things now.
Over these next thirty days, I will reaffirm that I am fully worthy of being loved, that I deserve to be happy, and that no one is going to stop me from exercising these rights. I will rediscover the good and lovable things about myself and I will celebrate them. And I will gradually open myself to giving my love to others again, and be astonished to realize that even without romance, love always feels like something brand new.
Sometimes I feel like I've been here way too long.
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| Sometimes I wonder, if I had the option, what I'd be willing to do to be beautiful by my standards.
Earlier in my life, I had a friend. She wasn't petite; she was 5'4'', lean and athletic, not muscly, with long red hair and clear blue eyes, a pale complexion with a generous, yet not overabundant, bosom. I always envied her appearance and strived to achieve a similar build.
Although she was a beautiful girl, she had no mind to speak of. She never applied herself in school, was always in trouble, involved in various illegal substances and drugs, alcohol, whatever she could get her hands on. She was frequently caught stealing and lied to the point where she sent her father to prison. Eventually, after being sent away to live with her mother where the use of illegal substance was so much more prominent, she managed to finish school and found herself with a degree. She now works for her father, possibly making more money as a photographer than I could ever hope for myself. But her grammar is awful, she nearly sells herself, her speech sounds ignorant and foolish. At twenty years old, she still behaves and talks like she did when I knew her at fifteen.
I wouldn't consider myself beautiful, by any means. I am fit and athletic, but I do carry a little extra weight that I hope to abolish in the near future. I have frizzy, curly red-brown hair, freckles, hazel eyes, crooked teeth, olive skin, small breasts, chewed fingernails, blister-worn hands, yet a solid, powerful lower half. More often than not, I can express myself well and have a relatively large vocabulary compared to my peers. However, I feel that I've lowered myself mentally, partially to fit myself into the more publicly conceived notion of "beautiful".
I wish I could more prize my intelligence, but it seems like a useless quality when I'm surrounded by people who are ahead of me academically, especially now that I'm in classes with teens just out of high school that stomp my ass at all things chemistry or mathematical. Why should I be proud of continuing B efforts when kids around me have percentages greater than 100 in my classes? Where has my focus gone?
I just feel like I've lost on both ends, and all I can do to improve my situation, really, is to drop some of the extra weight. When will I succeed in this endeavor? I keep losing. | | |
| I don't even know how to begin. I have so many thoughts sludging around in my mind and trying to organize them seems like such a useless endeavor.
The return home from Edmond has proven to me that not only am I not over my most recent ex, but that my spiritual life is still far from being in order. No matter what I do I feel empty and abandoned. I always wind up disappointed when my hopes are hardly high enough to be considered "hopes". I've learned to expect nothing from people, even though I know I want more. I've mostly closed off my heart from others and, more recently, I've begun to even close off my mind; not only from others, but myself. I've lost the desire to even think and reason for myself, something I never thought possible. I've been quieter than usual and my mood swings have become even more severe. The pain I feel in my body is becoming more reflective of inner turmoil; aches and pains, fatigue, etc.
People suck, but I can't live without them. | | |
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