Hey… You Got Any More of That Love?

I’m currently sitting in the bathtub. It’s one (of probably only two, my car is the other) of the safe places I have… that’s how it feels, anyway. I wish it didn’t feel this way. I have the knowledge that I can change how I perceive something anytime I wish to do so… but, yet, I still believe that a bathtub is [one of] my only safe space[s]. What can I do to change that? Why does it seem that I don’t want to change that or else I would have by now? When can I stop worrying about things such as this, anyway? Why do I worry about them? Why do I have so many questions about why I’m worried about them? This all becomes overwhelming the more questions that I come to… and I can promise you they are endless and will continue for hours in many different loops and pathways if I don’t just tell myself to stop at some point. I usually allow this to go on a little too long every time, though, before I’ve decided I’ve had enough for now.

This is the mind of an anxious person for those that somehow don’t suffer with it themselves (who are you? are you happy? what were your parents like? I need to know the dirty details for when I might attempt to raise a child that I so greatly wish just skips out on anxiety all together for the sake of.. a much better go at life)… I’m one who wishes to be anything but anxious, myself. It’s been a prevalent piece of my life so far and takes over much of who I am and what I believe at the detriment of the REAL me who knows better… anxiety doesn’t give a fuck who the real me is. We have surviving to do, apparently. *gag*

I’ve proven that I can survive… anxiety took a lil hiatus for awhile. Now, she’s back with extra padding.

She gets on my fucking nerves.

While she gets on my nerves… I forget the love I have for other people. Instead, I have an annoyed face on for the better part of the day and am worried about the next move of myself and also everyone around me. I am paranoid at times of constantly getting fucked off and stolen from. I’m on high alert that someone is most likely trying to deceive me for some grand scheme against my life as a whole. It’s really extra… anxiety is to blame. Mostly. I am also to blame because I allow it. I know better, now. I just apparently like to suffer. How weird. Anxiety… all to help me survive yet it causes me to suffer while surviving. If surviving is suffering then I don’t really want it… for real.

So here I am in the bathtub… after being my “old self” and letting the anger switch flip in my survival mode brain and telling someone straight the fuck off… name-calling and all. Not just a little bit of frustration. I mean calling a grown man a fucking bitch and a fucking idiot at the top of my lungs in his own house for no real good reason, even. Oops. More than oops. I’m getting ready to apologize… but I felt I should just write and get my head back on a little more mature and loving and a little less survival angry cunt. It’s helping so far.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll refrain from switch-flipping so randomly… maybe not. I’m trying to just accept each thing as it comes and be understanding of myself and as quickly as I am able to get back to who I want to be and make amends… I do. If they aren’t accepted then that’s ok and I understand why. If they are accepted all I can promise is that I am sincerely dedicated to changing the parts of me that don’t lead with love for other people. Some people are still hard for me to love… I understand why. But I am deciding that I want to love them anyway.

So, reader, I love you.

Not too bad for my first “I love you” of the day… even though it’s 23:29 right now. At least I got 1 in before it’s tomorrow. That’s better than 0 for the day even if I’m cutting it close. Progress. I hope you actually felt the love when you read it. I do mean it, regardless of who or what you are or think you are. You aren’t that person, really. I’m not sure any of us can quite grasp what we REALLY are. But I know bad ass is part of it… and so is the part that loves unconditionally. We are cool tbh. All of us. Even the hateful ones.. they are hateful for a reason and if we dig deep into everyone’s “why” we would find the cool part where that person persevered something that we can’t even fathom going through ourselves… that’s cool if you ask me. Hateful mf 😉 touché

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