There’s a soft spoken confident voice attempting to appeal to the other voices in my head. She’s the rational one, the one that brings me back to reality and reminds me I can breakthrough my own boundaries if I have to. She’s the one whispering to get out of my comfort zone. She tells me to get out of my own way! She’s also the voice I’ve muted the most. 

The whiny ones screaming and crying have been getting all my attention. The crying baby gets the milk or some shit. Unsupportive cry babies! They whisper shit like, ‘what if you can’t do this?’ Or. ‘What if you fail?’ ‘Or what if the person saying they love you is lying.’ They’re the injured, the sufferers, the sad ones, the ones that are terrified of moving forward. They conjure up ghosts and fan the flames of fear. They hold me back. I hold me back.

I settled in to their sadness, threw the deck in the air, sat back and let the cards fall; now I have to clean up the mess. Or learn how to flip the mute switch on them. Or force the voices inline with that soft voice that clears her throat to be a little louder. 

I’ve racked up a few bad habits. I’ve let myself down. I’ve listened to the depression and anxiety for so long, I think maybe I did lose some joy. 

Someone said that to me a few months ago, they said they felt sorry for me because I lost my joy. It pissed me off. I still had a lot of joy in my life, but it was joy for others, it wasn’t joy for my actions or accomplishments. I do tend to go hard supporting others, sometimes I go so hard I forget to support myself. I don’t know, maybe there was some truth to the comment. Or. Maybe that person was just upset I didn't give in to them. 

Either way. I have been sitting with myself for a while. I keep talking it up and saying: tomorrow or someday; and that’s hypocritical shit. I don’t like someday’s, I like right nows. 

My demons are still wrestling, and although they’re sexy as fuck, it’s still that really bad, sad girl kinda shit. Sometimes the anxiety and depression win. And overcoming that way of thinking has been a monumental challenge. How can someone be so full of optimism and still be so sad? I know I have to embrace all those parts of me, even the parts I don’t understand. I have to love her a lot louder and speak a little softer. Being kind to myself is not always easy when you’ve gotten familiar with kicking your own ass for your past and present choices. I linger too long overthinking my flaws. That has consequences too.

I’m not going to get better in a day, I know that. I gave all my patience away to other people and it’s the bottom of the barrel for me. I get up and I’m grateful, I tackle what comes at me with vigor and enthusiasm. I know it sounds easy, it’s not, but it’s also not impossible. Introspection can be just as damaging, as it is good for you. 

My brother says to go through life as a pessimist and celebrate anything good that happens unexpectedly. I like this.