Heartache reborn...but mending

I give myself enough heartache to last through seven lifetimes. I jump to conclusions and allow myself to feel like I'm the worst person in the world and that no one should ever be able to call me their friend. I don't feel I deserve them more than half the time. It gets hard and lonely and you sometimes would rather be alone - this is coming from a bonafide extravert. Or am I really an introvert who's covering as an extrovert? In either case, I don't think I'm happy sometimes unless I'm unhappy. Wow...that really may be true. Can I come to your couch, Dr. Phil? I think I need therapy.

Actually, I think we all do - need a little therapy. It isn't wrong or shameful. We live in a world that needs openness but it is nowhere to be found. Instead we're taught to keep it inside and not show it. You see, it might make us look vulnerable and we just can't have that now, can we? We'd create a ripple in the circle of life so great that it would crumble the foundation this planet is built on - or so society would tell you.

But really, that's all nonsense. What's killing us is this very idea. The more we keep things inside, the more we crack the foundation. See, when you bottle something up too long, it starts building this pressure up and...eventually...there's too much pressure and we explode as violently as the volcano that covered that ancient city of Pompeii years ago. It's destructive and violent and squeezes every ounce of life from your body, mind and soul. It's like a rat chewing through a shoestring. It has no nutritional value but it's something to chew. It won't feed him but it will give him something to do. And that's so harmful.

That's the kind of world that we live in - but we can do something about it. I can do something about it. So though I'm a bit heartbroken, and maybe from something that I shouldn't be, I can choose to move on. We all have a choice. I even had a choice tonight in where I put these thoughts. I could use a journal, start a new story or type it on my blog - which is obviously the one I felt was the best tonight. I also chose who to speak these thoughts to; I opened myself up to whomever should find my little piece of the internet. And I'm choosing how to word it so as to be real and not fake.

And I choose to get over this feeling that has been eating me for the past, well, exactly 24 hours. I'm putting it aside - I'm not hiding it. I am so very, very lucky - why? Because I have friends who know when I'm hiding and will call me out. They won't let me berate myself or think badly of myself. They remind me that I'm beautiful - and yes, I need to be reminded that I am beautiful. I have issues, man. That is one of them. Am I pretty enough? Am I smart enough? Am I fit enough? Am I funny enough? Am I strong enough? Am I vulnerable enough? These are the issues of a 30 year old woman who has never had a boyfriend, a career that satisfies her and wonders if she's living at all; a woman who's friends know her better than she knows herself. And so, sometimes, I have to be reminded that I'm beautiful just being slightly psychotic, mostly self-conscious, petite, brunette, hazel-eyed, fun-loving and worrisome me.

Tonight, I am going to bed not changed or reborn or even knowing if I'm going to feel better or worse in the morning. No...I'm going to bed a completely messed up person who may never be perfect or understand why God created her, but she knows tomorrow is another day and God has already forgiven her for everything she's going to do wrong. She knows that His days are a new life into itself.

So, tomorrow is a new life for me. Will I be a writer? A caterer? A dancer? A sportscaster? A business owner? A wife? A mother? Really, I have no clue...until I wake up on the other side of this night. But no matter where tomorrow takes me, I have the knowledge that I'm alive. A little heartbroken...but mending.