I've been breaking patterns and not letting secrets fester. I've been shedding the weight of other people's shortcomings and mistakes, not taking responsibility for them anymore. They're not mine to carry. Their problems are not mine to bear.
I recognised another pattern yesterday and shared that. Of self-sabotage, not letting myself enjoy positive experiences. Of focusing on my own insecurities and telling myself I'm not good enough for my husband, to justify my fears about choosing the wrong man, the wrong life. I remembered the therapist saying I was sabotaging friendships and other relationships - and then my abandonment issues become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Listen to all of these buzzwords. I'm a walking diagnosis.
As I was saying. I shared those musings and G said that I have locked myself in a prison of my own harmful thoughts. I self-sabotage because of my paranoia. It's no way to live.
Something about that rubbed me the wrong way. She sounded like my husband, who sees no progress, who has no faith in my efforts to change.
I said that I am actually trying to get myself out of that state though. I was a bit blunt in my wording.
She backtracked.
I said, good, because it's hard to quantify progress and I'm not about to let someone else invalidate mine. I repeated some shitty meme about recovery being an upward spiral.
Now I feel some more self-disgust, having had to defend myself and my progress like that. Fuck it, I don't owe anyone any explanation. I've done so much work, I've been lazy a lot of the time, but I'm miles away from where I started a year ago.
I have enjoyable sex now. I hardly snap at my kids. I motivate myself to do chores. I wrote two whole fucking scripts, one of which has completed filming, the other being produced at the moment. I extended myself creatively. I reached out to those who needed help. I stood up for myself. I confronted people. I confronted my fears. I let myself be vulnerable. I took brave steps towards change. I bared my soul to my therapist. I passed my driving test first time. I coped with having a child with special needs and continue to stand up for him against a broken system. I stayed up many nights and stayed sane in the morning. I have been doing laundry almost every day and kept up with chores. I've had relaxing baths. I've mastered baking cheesecake. I attempted to talk to my inner child and sobbed for half an hour straight and survived. I passed out in front of the fridge and woke up to my son in front of me. And got over the shame of that. And then fed myself. I got through my husband's job issues and the guilt of all of that.
What the fuck else do I have to prove to anyone, but myself. I'm my own worst enemy.
2022-04-08.10:19 p.m.
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