Tuesday, March 27, 2012

There are always things I can only explain in writing:

Lately I find I've been unreasonably stressed. I worry about money and my future and my (not-shrinking-fast-enough) debt. I worry about my job and health insurance and apartment hunting. I worry and stress over (lack-of) weight loss and wonder if I will ever, ever, ever find my person. I worry and stress and just cry. And when I pull apart all the threads of this stress, each thing isn't so important. Isn't so overwhelming. But it isn't each thing that bothers me, it is this horrible overwhelming feeling that my life isn't going anywhere. That I've reached some horrible stagnant place. A plateau. An impasse. I hate that.

 I told myself I was just focusing on the wrongs things. I believe happiness is a choice. We choose what we think about and spend our energy on. We choose HOW we think about things. I could focus on all the things that worry me, or I could think about the things going right. The good things. And I could choose to be positive about those worries, or negative. But I couldn't do it.

 I've been reading books I love but still feeling like I couldn't breathe properly, like the weight of my worries was all on my chest. I've been going out on my bicycle in the sunshine, listening to music that I love and feeling strong and healthy but still feeling so small. Like I was tiptoeing around the edges of myself, trying not to fall into that turbulent core. Avoiding the waves.

 Where went my calm center? What happened to the unassailable belief that everything will be fine? That even the bad is working towards a good?

 I don't know.
But I'm taking back control.

 Because there are things I can make better and there are things I cannot. But I'm not powerless or at an impasse. Whether or not I realize it consciously, I'm choosing these things. And today I'm going to stop choosing them.

 Instead of focusing on the man that yelled at me in the store I'll think about the nice one that talked to me about international travel for several minutes the other day.
Instead of getting angry at myself for my weight, I'll remember how far I've come. How healthy I am. How strong and beautiful I already am.
Instead of thinking about the debt I currently have, I'll remember that car payments and school loans are normal things that normal people have. And remember that my credit card is almost there. Almost almost almost.
Instead of worrying about the possibility that some horrible something will happen that I won't be able to pay for, I'll start saving more money and spending less. Which will make me feel better, going on a trip or having money in my savings account?

 And instead of worrying about if I'll ever find my person, I'll remember that I am happy all by myself. And that loneliness and insecurity is as visible to people as the clothes you wear. And that I know my own worth. I know myself and I love who I am. And eventually I'll find someone who feels the same way. Someone I love and respect as well. Or I won't. But I'll be happy either way.

Monday, March 26, 2012

My not-dancing feet:

This dance of
too much
not enough
and just right
keeps me stumbling.
Perhaps I was born with feet made for moving forward
and not for dancing.
with arms shaped for making, building, holding together
and not for swinging, twirling embraces.
my lips more suited for laughing and smiling
than perhaps kisses and knowing grins.

But my heart-
my heart wants to do all of those things
this heart that is always
too much
not enough
and never
just right.