Lots of people reminisce about the past.
Lots of people would like to change their past if they could. If we could reverse some things, or maybe even alter it all completely, we all wish we could go back.
I am one of those people. I’m always stuck reminiscing about certain events and spend a copious amount of time on “What Ifs”. It doesn’t matter if I could never do anything about it now. It doesn’t even matter that there is no way to erase my memory of it. For one reason or another, I find myself thinking about things I should bury.
This past month I have realized that I am the biggest obstacle to myself. I’ve said this before, and I’ve known this for quite a long time now but I am the biggest burden I could ever carry around.
My old, unloving and negative self followed me all the way here, to the new place I now consider as my home. I brought it here and began knowingly infecting the foreign neutral spaces around me and didn’t even try to stop myself from losing control. I couldn’t let myself have a fresh start of a clean slate. I just HAD to ruin things for myself and possibly sully what future I may have. This restart was the option I was looking for when I was experiencing hard times and yet—I have spread the gray, unwanted cloud everywhere and I fear that this might infect other people.
If there was one thing I could have controlled, (if control is an actual thing and not an illusion) then it would have been myself. My own mind. My own body. Because as much as I think my very life isn’t in my own two hands; as much as I think I can’t go any further down an undesirable rabbit hole; and as much as I think there is Someone Perfect From Up There who is looking out for me and will always forgive me— I could have stopped myself.
I could have avoided this. I SHOULD have made a better, harder and more thorough effort not to let myself fall into the measly, sly hands of this world and the wrong things that it has shown me.
And if I did, I wouldn’t be wallowing in a deep pool of regret, guilt and pain.
My heart wouldn’t be suffering and my mind wouldn’t be running a billion miles per hour in paranoia and anxiety if I had only managed to refrain from being the type of person who I have never wanted to be; the kind that I used to be, and have now come to be once more. For all the fighting that I have done to combat this skewed shell of morality and fairness that I have lived with for most of my recent years, I sure did NOTHING to not let myself be led into darkness and tempted into accepting failure.
If not, family wouldn’t be shaking their head at me, my soul would not be bleeding and my Father would not be crying so much for my sins.
The shadows of my past tailed me all the way to the other end of the Earth and I let them decide my actions and let them decide my words. I let the cold, unfeeling numbness take over and dictate my days. And so far, even if it is only in a miniscule scale for some, I have let the damage become monumental to me, even if I’m the only one who knows this.
But my fate in this narrow path is not sealed. Nor will it ever be. I am choosing to believe that there is still a way and that I will somehow have the courage to FACE all the nasty things that I have done as a person and really LEARN from my mistakes. Change cannot happen overnight, only time will tell.
I must be diligent in my battles and patient with myself. I must not be discouraged or intimidated by anyone or anything else; not even myself. I must be like a piece of string and follow what is right to the best of my ability and strive for solid results that any man could be proud of. I must live with my shame but be able to brush it off at the same time.
I am still young, and the road ahead is not clear. I shouldn’t hurry to tread through it. I will no longer stumble blindly, because I have hope.
I have hope that no matter how many times I fall and pick myself up— I wil not berate my entire existence. I will have a better attitude towards any type of sinkhole I get caught in— I won’t let fear and judgement pound my reasoning into whatever shape the bad part of me wants it to form into.
I used ro call it being REALISTIC, the way that I just go through an unbearably long cycle of terribleness. But sometimes, that isn’t what it is.
No matter how many times I try to convince myself that after setting some goals I could be consistent with my rebirth, I know that one day I’ll be vulnerable again. And that’s okay.
It’s “okay” to be human and “okay” to be weak. But what makes us who we are and what makes us stronger in all ways of life and living is our dedication and perseverance to always look up to Him and hold on to His teachings. These lessons will guide us and give us plenty of opportunities to wash ourselves clean like a newborn babe and be free of shame and misery.
Even if you don’t believe in heaven, or the concept of a God, I think it’s perfectly fine. Because I don’t think that’s how heaven works.
I know the past cannot be reset but at the very least I have ways to soothe my sick and worried soul. The past can’t stop being in the past and erase all traces of abusing myself and others. The past can’t make my problems go away. The past can only help me with the things that help me learn. I only need to achive success by how I define it. By what I make of this past.
I don’t know when I’ll be able to trust in my heart and be able to get over my crap but I know I will be able to this and I am MORE than capable of turning things around. I just know it’ll happen eventually; but I have to actively want it. I have to actaully put more effort work hard for it.
Because of all this I can smile a bit and breathe a sigh of relief.
A do-over IS POSSIBLE, but not by how I particularly believe it’ll happen. Life is unpredictable and like really, really mean and scary.
But not entirely umanagable, even through the crooked cracks in its foundations. At this point, I have not yet given up on what tommorrow brings. I have not lost complete sight of my way.
It’s honestly a bit hard for me, whenever I pump myself up like this. I feel unconvincing. I feel inauthenthic, I feel like I’m not genuine.
This is where I have to learn to get past all that. I owe it all to myself, to the people who have taken care of me and to the Big Man Upstairs to clear this all out. I can’t say for sure that I’ll totally stop being wishy-washy about my feelings, or to stop posting them here for me to mull over some day—nothing is that simple for me. But if I try to think the opposite way, I might have a chance of surviving. I might have a chance of actually being triumphant.
This has been me, going on a tirade at 4AM about how I pretty much sabotage my life and how I crave thicker skin and a shinier outlook.
This is totally unrelated but, the next post may or may not be about Red Velvet. (But I feel like it’s gonna be.)
EDIT (December 2017): I haven’t made that Red Velvet post yet; and I don’t know if I will still do it.