Well up until today I was having a hard time seeing what I was thankful for. And then, in a rare and favorite moment, I felt compassion. Compassion for, well, myself I guess. My sister told me I’m her hero. That’s hard to swallow but I believe her I have to because she’s never lied to me. How someone can say something that fits right into that hole you have, that place where you kick yourself for not being stronger, for not being farther, for not accepting your illness but fighting against it only to worsen the symptoms–that sick cycle I keep continuing. But hey, at least I’ve noticed it. I’m becoming more…aware of what I’m doing. I’m angry a lot, even when I don’t think I am, and my family is gently trying to tell me so…well most of them. And what did I learn when my mother wasn’t there for me, when we chewed each other out BAD and screamed and cried and took our digs when I was having an episode? I learned not that she isn’t there for me, she is in her own way, but I learned we have wounds that don’t heal over night. Her in her insecurities as a mother and as a woman, and me in my two ways–denying this illness, and secondly, being to afraid to make more changes. Changes changes changes I’ve had to make so many, and so many have just happened. These last three or so years I’ve changed so much–I died, I was born, I was all but decimated, I was given faith, I became whole at the core, though the outer rings need tending to now. I’ve been afraid. That’s the bottom line. But I’ve made some kind of step somehow. It’s been brewing in my psyche and in my heart for weeks and it’s now forming into these words: I’m less afraid to face this ill body because my life in the “stuck” arena is awful. It’s cowardice. It’s not me. I’m seeing a new psychotherapist and I like her because she has boundaries and I need that. I’m not dreading going to see her next week. I’m looking forward to it. I found myself telling her and I couldn’t believe it when I was saying it because I’ve never told anyone before but I accept these terms of my life as a challenge, as a challenge I can overcome and the answers are in me I just have to find them. That’s exactly what I said. I’m giving myself a warrior badge for that instinct of mine. I have a lot to be thankful for, even when life feels like it’s been one kick after the other lately–I just wasn’t looking at the lessons. If someone tests your soul, who you are, who you are TO YOURSELF, then they’re someone to be thankful for. Difficulties and weaknesses often lead us to the very thing we need to learn. I’m looking at my weaknesses, and it’s been a long time since I have. Rumi hinted at these things–take to the difficulties that come upon you as a friend (he writes of thieves that get you and get you) because they’re bringing you back to your spirit, the importance of your spirit and how it shines and how you can make it shine. I have festered in my weaknesses long enough. I’ve sat in their gut and even stunned the time of waiting. But now I’m waking up again. I don’t like it in here and I’m seeking a window. Or an ulcer, to climb my way out of. Because that’s what I can possibly be good at and faithful to, since I’ve been denying it. Weak. I keep thinking of Mark Twain’s quote too “never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.” I’m having this issue with my ex, and I’m learning (ever so slowly) that underneath the hurt and the dreaming of his attention is not him, but me–thinking I need someone to love me in order for myself to love me. I was thinking that I’m unlovable. That when people leave they don’t love you and never did. Write Into the Light blog showed me that. It’s not necessarily him I seek because he is weak and so much smaller than I am. He has the potential to find his greatness, but he doesn’t believe in it, is what I mean. And if you can’t see it in yourself, you can’t see it in others, which is why he never saw it in me. Well, that’s it for now. I finally feel some peace now.