Emotions, A New and Foreign Language for Me, Day 68 Again

I've had some difficulties with my "official" property manager and the oblivious, foreign tenant who was manipulated into taking over the responsibility of managing some of the units. My utility is included in the rent. I feel bad for the person who's now responsible for paying for the cost of utility who has to pay the excess remaining balance that isn't covered in the rent. But I can't afford to pay for someone else's mistakes.

And, quite honestly, the cold bitch in me is firmly against it. No one ever coddled me from my mistakes. If anything, they kicked me into a mistake and gave me crap for not getting out of it quickly enough. Clearly these are my personal issues I shouldn't transfer over, though. And I try my hardest not to, but apparently I've been unsuccessful. Even if I conceal it, I shouldn't put myself in that situation where I reference the past in relation to me.

That aside I've discovered that how I come off and my intended delivery can be varyingly different. It's been brought to my attention that my firmness is interpreted as aggression. That's not my intention nor my desire, but I'm not really sure how to change that. If your communication skills are weak, and I tell you slowly but not condescendingly how things are, I don't see how that's aggressive.

It was expressed how important it is for me to not lose my identity as I try to be more receptive to the feelings of others. That's honestly not a concern of mine. I think my identity will be intact. And more than likely, I'll keep that same edge and approach things similarly to how I do now. But I also want to be aware of the consequences of my actions and understand my observations. That means I have to learn an entirely new language.

A Writer Who's a Girl or a Girl Who Writes? Day 67

I've become interested in writing because it was a "safe" way for me to express how I feel, but I think I've come to the realization that writing has crippled my ability to feel in a healthy, functional way because it provides me with the opportunity to filter out certain emotions. Instead of letting my feelings wash over me, my writing keeps me focused on some thoughts more than others. I over think to a dysfunctional degree. With so many thoughts piling up, I feel like certain emotions escape me so to speak.

I'm not saying that writing is negative, or anything, but I finally realized that writing doesn't define me. I define what writing is for me. It's like I have this idolized idea of what writing is only to realize that it's not true. Just as writing has the ability to help me process my emotions, it also has the ability to stifle it like water. Water is neither good or bad. It's neutral. How you use water determines whether it's beneficial or harmful for you. Writing is my form of water. Water conveys emotions for me.

I Hold onto Anger, Day 66

People who know me know that I can be a resentful, vicious bitch. So yeah I can hold onto anger. It’s a natural state to be in if I wanted to be. It used to be. That’s not how I instinctively react anymore, but that habit still exists in me. My fault lies in not being fully aware of it. I’m no longer outwardly angry, so it’s as though I’ve eluded myself into believing that the anger no longer burns inside of me, that the fire has been long dead. Yet it remains.

I don’t want that anymore, and I think that’s the first step towards correcting it, letting it go! By pouring all that excess out, I can invite new energy in. I thank the people in my life who help me to realize that every day. I love you all, but I’d like to become the person one day who can do this on my own without someone putting a mirror up to the obvious. I want to reach that kind of self-awareness. I’ll always need people in my life to observe what I can’t for myself, but this is something I should be more connected to.

I feel like releasing the anger is a step towards the right direction. Obviously. In the past, I wasn’t ready to. I think it was one of the few constants in my life. Then so much crap happened that I didn’t have the time to direct anger out openly, but I must’ve still continued it on a subconscious level. I just assumed something in me changed. Then the anger felt absent, so I thought I was over it. I don’t hear the frustration in my voice because it’s been a part of me for so long. It’s evident to others, though. I have to stop seeing things as trivial.

An Altruistic Process, Day 65

I have a friend who triggers an insane amount of premonitions for me. I had some more of him today. He's an acupuncturist, and I saw visions of what his practice would be like. It was actually pretty cool. I shared some of it with him, and he related to a lot of them.

Being able to do that put me in an altered state. It actually made me feel empty. It's like my thoughts poured out to let new ones enter. After I finished sharing those visions with him, I was still left with an empty mind that allowed my thoughts to wander. I broke down and tears burst through me. It was enlightening, painful, and educational. Who knew the words, "This is happiness to you," would have such a powerful effect.

The Dualistic Nature That is Me, Day 64

Last night was an experience that made me realize that I have the ability to not just trust others but trust myself. Yet I clearly struggled with it. But there's something to be said that I went through with it. I didn't think I had it in me. Being so cynical and distrusting for most of my life, I can't ignore the "signs". Habits, moments, and experiences that I nitpick and focus on as evidence that I can't trust anyone. I'd like to one day not be that person, but it's quite possible that I'll struggle with that for the rest of my life because it's so deeply ingrained within me.

I don't want to indulge in that possibility, but when my mind addressed that concern, something clicked. I don't know what my future holds. I may or may not become that person. Right now I'm not that person. That's in the here and now. I want to change that, but in the meantime I do struggle with it. I don't trust people the way I should. I trust, but I have doubts that shouldn't be there. I can't deny them or pretend that it isn't there because it's dishonest, unhealthy, and the very thought process that's rooted in my issues, whatever those are. I have excess thoughts, and they aren't going to go away overnight. So all that I can do now is trust myself and focus on what really matters. I've been feeding my insecurities and doubts for far too long. I have to trust that there's only one truth, which makes the other a fallacy.

Do I trust? I believe so. Are there doubts? Yes. In life, there are no guarantees. I view "trust" as 100%, and that's not what it is, which means that until my mind wraps its head around the true meaning of trust, I may have doubts. I just have to make sure that they don't consume me. I used to push these fears into the back of my mind until it ripped through. It's better that I inventory that this feeling exists, whether it's just residual paranoia or something real. I can no longer look away.

My dream showed me that last night. It's been so long since I've dreamed. Last night I was picking lice out of my hair. I kept parting and diligently removing the lice and collecting it in the palm of my hand. I was removing the lice from my hair by using a mirror. According to dreammoods.com, seeing your own reflection suggests that I have pondering thoughts about my inner self. The reflection in the mirror is how I want to perceive myself and how I want others to see me. I may be contemplating on strengthening and changing aspects of my character. The last part is unquestionably true. It's possible that I want people to see me as I saw myself in the mirror, not the way I should be and yet working towards correcting that. I had lice in my hair which proves that I'm contaminated, but I was also removing it. I'm sucking the poison out of my life.

It was a rather brief dream but very vivid. I wonder if my distrusting nature manifested that dream or if the dream was merely supporting my distrust because there's legitimate concern. I can go back and forth in an attempt to figure it out, but that only stunts the process. I feel that I can trust. I see things that make me question it. I feel like I always see those things, though. Those interpretations don't define reality. That's as far as I know now, and as far as I want to take it.

The fact that I can accept that is tremendous progress for me. I don't want to be egotistical by over emphasizing it, but I do want to address it. My problem has always been that I focus on the wrong details, and I don't see the full picture. So as I run the risk of being egotistical, I toot my own horn for the baby steps I'm taking. Speaking of baby steps....

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I'm going to learn how to ride a bike. The idea of riding a bike is a long, painful, torturous story about my past. A detail I'll keep to myself. I thought it was a life's passage that I escaped and one I've wanted to escape for so long. But with many things for my past, it's catching up to me. I'm scarred by it, but I don't think to such a degree that I can't overcome it. I've had a couple of really good friends offer to teach me. For some reason, it's not been something I've been interested in pursuing until today! :) It's actually a new friend who offered to teach me. I'm really surprised that I trust him seeing how I just met him, but I had this feeling that I should tell him I don't know how to ride a bicycle. When I told him, he said that he thought it'd be funny but would love to teach me. That totally works for me. I'm not really sure why, but who cares! I've actually become more and more interested in the idea of it lately, but I hadn't found anyone I trusted enough to want to pursue that. It's also me, though. I wasn't ready until now.

I titled this blog Dualistic Nature because so much happens in my life that I spend so much time trying to figure out which aspect of my life I want to blog about. That's when it hit me. My life will probably always be a roller coaster. Maybe by embracing this, I'm jinxing it. I don't know. But this is how I feel. This is what it is now. All I can do is either let it take hostage of me or adapt to the circumstance I seem to have little control over. That's the key to having control. That and sometimes learning to let go, one of my greatest struggles. I'll always have choices. I'll always feel burdened because choices invite burden into our lives. I'm not willing to eliminate choices, though. So all I can do is make the best out of what I have, which means choosing what I want to focus on in my life. I can't ignore things I'd rather neglect, but I can define which ones are my priorities. The dream I had and my decision to learn how to ride a bike are the two priorities I want to focus on.

Emotional Attack, Day 63

The past few days I've made more progress in my emotional growth than I have my entire life. Opening up to my roommate lifted this burden and was a real eye-opener. I even stood on the right side yesterday, which is a huge deal for me. I like being on the left side. I've never been on the right for as long as I have. When I was on the right, it made me so uncomfortable that I felt shaky. That's not a normal reaction was what I kept thinking. And it isn't. But I'm missing the point.

I was on the right side! That's amazing! I deliberately put myself in a situation that made me uncomfortable as a way to deal with it. Standing there, I realized that I have habits that I'm not even fully aware of. I was fidgety. I knew that day that I was going to stand on that side as a form of practice. I kept going back and forth, though. I didn't realize it at the time, but switching back and forth for my ease was burdening my problem on my friend. After I was specifically told to not dump my problems on any of my other friends, I wasn't even aware I was doing it until someone else showed me.

I love that I have friends that'll be my eyes when I need them to be. But it's also crippling. I need to observe these things and be aware of them myself. I feel like I've had emotional attacks. I woke up yesterday morning being smiley happy, and I couldn't define it. It felt weird, but I liked it. And I went with it until night came and I worked through what I was afraid of. Even as I type, I find myself fluctuating between being happy and having that awkward goosebump feeling. Variation has always been a part of my life. I need to embrace it internally.

I realized that these emotional attacks aren't actually attacks. My body is just responding that way because it's foreign substance to me. I don't want it to be. I want it to be a part of me. It is. I just need to accept that. Sometimes I have this feeling that I should be alone, and I'm consumed with trying to find someone, anyone to hang out with. That insistence is weird, but I never questioned it. Some time between Thursday and today, it dawned on me that those are the days I'm most receptive to my emotions and myself. It scares me.

I'm Going Through Hell :) Day 62

That title and smiley face must be baffling, right? It would confuse me, too, but something amazing happened to me. I got the second chance I've been hoping for for so long. With it came new lessons even more powerful than the ones I had before. I ran into my ex, and we had this long, painful, cathartic talk. I was going through Hell. I didn't fully realize it at the time, but it was one of the best things that happened to me.

I didn't realize how resistant I was to it at first. But as my walls came crumbling down and I saw the debris and what it exposed, it was so painfully obvious what I was doing. How did I not know that? I'm a social person, and how I feel isn't well hidden. So I assumed that I was an open person, but I'm far from it. I'm guarded because I'm afraid. That fear is so deeply embedded in me. It's such an old scar that I've forgotten that it even exists. Guardedness just became a part of my identity.

The conversation may have initially been about our relationship, but the focus eventually shifted onto me and my problems. It no longer became about what he would and wouldn't put up with or how he refuses to get hurt again. It was about how I needed to change for myself. It became painfully evident when he put more effort into showing me that than I put in the effort to see it.

My vision was honestly obstructed because I was blocking myself from it, but I'm also the same person who put those barriers there in the first place. I may have been setting myself up, but I have no one else to blame for that than myself. As what he kept saying over and over, which is painfully cryptic (show me you've changed, show me you've changed, prove to me that you want to change, prove to me that you want to change, you're not showing me, you're not showing me....) finally made sense, I broke down. I started crumbling, crying, shaking, and it was a devastatingly vulnerable experience. I hate feeling that way, but that's when I finally made progress.

Apparently that's one of my processes. In order for me to open up, be receptive, be self-aware, and trust myself and others, I have to break down. That's the only way I know how to do it. That's why I was finally making progress. I felt something changing in me, but I didn't understand it until it was pointed out to me.

It wasn't until it was pointed out to me and I felt vulnerable that I even knew this. I'm not trying to excuse myself, but I couldn't help myself when I didn't even know it was there. I blamed him for things that weren't his faults as a coping mechanism. I was awful. I never want to put him or anyone else through that again. I appreciate so much what he did for me, to be on the phone with me for as long as he had, tolerated me, and helped me again, but I don't want to make this about him because it isn't.

One last comment about him, though. He said that I had to go through Hell to get better, so he wishes that I go through a lot of Hell. It's twisted but in a sweet way. He doesn't wish this method on me, but it's my process. He suggested that I invite more girls into my life because I need that kind of energy and people around. I don't know too many girls, and I certainly didn't know any I could talk to at midnight or so I thought.....

He was adamant that I talk to my roommate. He was confident that she'd be able to help me, but he doesn't even know her. All I told him is that I moved. I live in the living room now and share the space with a girl, and I get along with her. He seemed impressed and happy for me. I also explained that she gave me attitude when I didn't finish her bread. It was so vague and minimal the amount of information I provided of her, but he persisted that she obviously cares about me and wants me to be happy. So she would help me. He told me to talk to her, to tell her everything. And I actually did. I think that's the first time I ever opened to anyone like that or at all. I've explained details, but I was really exposed and vulnerable.

I had to get off the phone before I changed my mind, but I knew that it was the right decision for me because I was scared. Fear is a familiar reflex I experience when I know I have to approach something. When I was on the phone with him, I was crying and shaking, and I was really scared. I had no idea what to expect from this conversation. I just knew that I had nothing to lose, that she's a good person, that I have no reason to not trust him, and more than anything I didn't want to be afraid anymore.

She wasn't bothered at all about being interrupted. She was there for me and listened to me, but it wasn't this awkward silent thing. She shared, too. I was surprised by how open and how comfortable she was by my reaction. I kept having these thoughts racing in my mind about what she thought about me. What if she was worried that I'd always do this to her? She just moved in, and here a stranger is dumping her problems on her. What if I'm bothering her? Who would actually admit it? Would I freak her out by saying this? It was natural. She even expressed that she was glad to see this side of me. And here I was worried that it would freak her out. It was a relief for her.

How did I get so much so wrong? I was wrong about her. I was wrong about him. I'm wrong about myself A LOT! All I really know is that I have to go through Hell to get better. As much as I hate it, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do! Wish me lots of pain and Hell!