Wednesday, May 14, 2014

My new quest

Journal entry 947 1/2:

For as long as I remember, I've struggled with insecurity. No one likes me. I'm not good enough. I'm not funny enough. I'm not thin enough. Im not pretty enough. I'm not smart enough. I'm not sane enough. I'm just....not enough.

I'm struggling with all of these right now. Ever since me and the ex Hubs called it quits for good back in January, I've felt awkward. I feel awkward because I don't have anyone by my side. Someone to define me. Someone to tell me who I'm supposed to be. To conform to someone's ways because I don't know my own.

I've never really been "single" before. Ever. Even before the whole dating gig, I had my parents telling me what to do. Making all my decisions, creating my every move.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I feel lost. I feel like I'm falling. I feel naked. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I don't know who I am or what to do with myself. Who am I, because no one is telling me who to be. How to act. What to wear. What my day will consist of.

The naked truth is this and nothing less:
I'm highly codependent.  I can and will chameleon myself into anyone or anything to suit any event, situation, surrounding, or person. Catalina absolutely does not know who Catalina is. I am a complete stranger to myself. What's going to have to happen is a crap load of self searching. The thought of this is terrifying. I may or may not like what or who I find. It could be fun though, to try new things, to act different ways, to try new friends, clothes, food, hobbies, EVERYTHING!

I'll wrap it up by motivating myself. For the first time in my 35 years, I'm going solo. I'm not interested in questing out with someone else. I do have a hesitating interest in finding my soul, though. My higher power has kept me safe from harm's way and from myself thus far and I know, I have to know, that he will bring me further. This quest isn't going to be easy and it sure the hell will be scary and uncomfortable, but it's something I have to do. To create myself, define myself, and love myself. To love the skin I'm in. Then and only then will I be able to give love and openly receive it.

Monday, February 10, 2014

What I really want to say is....

Today, things suddenly started looking up for me. This simple thing called a "job interview" landed in my lap. I have been filling out applications online and sending in resumes like crazy...whether I qualify or not. Having an interview, well, it's just an interview. However, it's a start. It shows that I tried and it shows that there is progress.

Let's go back to the past 2 weeks:
Bedtime. Naptime. I can't sleep. Shaking ever so violently from nervousness. So nervous I could puke. Biting peoples heads off for just looking at me. Feeling angry. Being angry. Wanting to either go out into the back yard with a shovel and bury myself and become non existent or to just flat out die.

A girl of many masks. I have a mask for a party. I have a mask to go out to eat. I have a mask for my AA meetings. I have different masks for each and every one of my friends. A mask for home. A mask for the soon to be ex husband. A mask for the children. You get the point? All of these masks cover up what I have been feeling. What do I feel? Here we go....

I've been putting on a façade that I am okay. I have been laughing, cheerful, helpful, concerned, outgoing, free spirited, open minded. That's only the way that I appear to other people. That's the only side I let people see. It's been embedded into my brain and in my soul that I cannot show weakness. I cannot let people see me when I'm down. Catalina doesn't become weak. She must remain strong at all times. She is not allowed to cry. This is what I've been taught since childhood.

The real and raw truth is this:
I'm fucking dying inside. I'm scared. I'm wondering if it's actually possible to die from a broken heart. I'm petrified to start over...or to even START! I don't feel good enough. I (sometimes) just want to die. I have thoughts of doing myself in. Hell, the other night, I envisioned myself opening a vein for the sheer fact that I didn't have a car. For the sheer fact that I don't have a job. For the sheer fact that I'm back at mommy and daddy's house at the age of 35. I'm pissed that the soon to be ex hubs got a new (to him) car. That his son has been placed with him and I'm not a part of it. THAT was supposed to by MY life, but it's not and I have to accept that I made the decision to free myself from a toxic marriage that I've been miserable in since the day after I said "I do."  I feel hopeless and I just want to go away.

What the hell keeps me going? Why/HOW the hell am I still sober after so many low spots in my recovery? Wouldn't I be, wasn't I before better off than I am now? No, I really wasn't. Today, I have to feel this shit. Today I have to identify, feel, address, and find a solution to that feeling of wanting to die. To go away. To give up. To go get in the bed not giving one fuck about anything and just sleeping my life away.

I'm dying inside and I have a lump in my throat at all times. I make myself physically ill. I hear shatter of my heart more and more every day. There is something that keeps me going though. Something more powerful than my weak and merciless self. Something that knows that this door has shut and there is something beyond my wildest imagination out there just waiting for me if I just get the fuck up and take a step outside. If I make a phone call. If I talk to someone. There is something in me which is on fire to keep thriving. To keep living. To keep on keeping on. Besides my higher power (whom I choose to call God) there is something so incredibly strong within myself which won't let me give the fuck up.

What am I going to do about it? I'm going to nourish that small little voice inside me which says "Keep Going! We're not done!" I'm going to feed it. Water it. Love it. Listen to it. I'm going to make that little bastard (the voice) so strong that it will no longer whisper, but it will scream. There comes a time in life when the bullshit stops. Where the wallowing in self pity stops. Where you realize that if you want something, you've got to get the hell up and get it. When you get to the point where you're sick and tired of being so damn sick and tired.

I have arrived.