Daily Confession

I am beginning to realize that the true mark of adulthood is being faced with your own regrets. I used to say that I didn’t have regrets,  but I think that perhaps as an adult you learn to live with your failures and forgive yourself for not seeing clearly at the time.

I have had multiple successes this year, but realizing how hollow accomplishments can be on their own has also made me dive deeper into my soul.  These also give me the courage to face my failures.  Because I realize that in life we all make mistakes.  Sometimes we make promises we never intended on keeping and sometimes we make promises we just couldn’t fulfill, and then in the dark center are the places where we actually, secretly, wanted to inflict pain.  But if we can’t face our regrets and mistakes then we miss out on real growth.  And forgiveness and light are easier to give if we realize forgiveness isn’t ours to begin with.  After all, how can I cause more harm than murdering the son of god.

Trauma therapy really is a beast. It breaks down everything you thought was secure and it takes time to absorb the shock.  It takes time to release the pain.  But if I’m being honest, my two great regrets in life are 1) Not starting trauma therapy early enough and, 2) Not letting love in because I was afraid.

I hate weakness.  I hate people who lack courage, who can’t just go all in after realizing its the right decision.  But I think I hate it because I saw it as a death sentence in childhood.  I couldn’t be weak or show emotion because I would have been punished or I would have completely cracked.  I hated my mom for crying fake tears and for being weak and staying in an abusive relationship even when she could have left.  Now, I am working to hate it in myself less, to recognize it more, so I can be kinder to others who have hurt me.  It’s a work in progress, and I fail constantly.  But now, at least I can see it.

On the humorous side, I really hate my therapist.  He’s really an ass sometimes.  But he’s a really good clinician and I know part of my trauma is just me being straight up anti-man.  So I’m trying.  I really wish it was easier. For an hour every Wednesday (I have it on my planner as ‘torture time’) it just churns more up and sometimes post session I involuntarily vomit but that’s life.  I would much rather have my fingernails taken out slowly because it’s equally ugly but that’s life.