Shit happens. Life happens. Sometimes it happens all at once. Sometimes it happens one after the other. Sometimes it feels like it will never stop. But the journey is just as important as the destination. Sometimes things happen that we can not control. Sometimes it’s about letting go of the control. That’s my struggle. CONTROL. Control of my life. Control of my body. Control of my finances. Control of my time. Control of my emotions. When I lose control, I feel like I lose my happiness.
Happiness is about letting each moment be what it is, instead of what you think it should be.
That’s my problem, What I think it should be. I have so many expectations, of myself. But when life happens and alters situations, I have incredible difficulty altering my expectations to reflect the situation. When did the pressure to have everything “perfect” get taken so personally? When did I allow “loss of control” to equal “vulnerable”?
Sometimes stressful times need to be held. “Held” in the sense that sometimes we rely on others to carry our emotional burden when we aren’t strong enough to hold it ourselves. I’m a holder. If there is even such a thing. Maybe it’s the psychologist in me, but the people closest to me tend to turn to me first when times get tough. I can handle it. I can be honest. I can be blunt. I genuinely want to help be their emotional support. Why is it that I can be realistic with others, but with myself I’m lacking self empathy? Why is it okay for everyone else to be human, but towards myself I show no compassion? Why can I carry others emotional burdens but never expect anyone to carry mine?
Moral of this rant? When I’m find myself climbing a never ending uphill battle, carrying so much that I can’t possibly carry anymore, I’m going to stop beating myself up over the fact that my arms are full … and just get a wagon.