I'm a little lost.
Not just in the way that I am absent, but feeling as if I am a stranger in my skin. My life has changed dramatically in the last few weeks and yet, oddly, nothing is really that different. I almost feel like an impostor. I know that this is all just another tunnel down the rabbit hole.
While shopping, recently, JR asked me why I don't feel like I deserve good things. I have been thinking about that and I can't quite come up with an answer that satisfies all that the question implies. Is it that I feel the need to punish and discipline myself because I am a sinner? Could the residual religion of my childhood still have it's claws in me?
I do want to be happy. I want to deserve nice things. I need to feel like I've earned it. Yes, I am finally released from my self-imposed prison. But I can't get over the feeling that this is all just a dream. My saboteur is in full effect and, though I am aware of it, I cannot seem to get control of him. It's like Mitch always said: "Don't shit where you live." I never really understood that, because of the modern conveniences like toilets and the like. I asked him: "Don't you mean: Don't shit where you eat?"
Mitch looked at me, as if I had done just that, and it all made sense. I do deserve good things. I just have to learn not to shit all over them. Maybe things will get even better. Who knows? I just might find someone to fight over the covers with.
My life is still in boxes, mostly, and I realize that I'm not that anxious to unpack. Could it be that I am ready to let go of my baggage? Somehow that seems unlikely, but as they say: Out with the old, in with... Well, you know how it goes.
Thank you to everyone who has shown kindness and patience with me through my molting period. (You know who you are.) An even more brilliant version of me is on the way. In the meantime, please, cover me... I'm going in.