THE SECURITY BLANKET OF MY TRAUMA FEELS SAFER TO ME THAN A FUTURE FULL OF UNKNOWNS

2pm and rolling out of bed, yet again. There's a part of me that wishes that I could tell you I was out all night, drunk, with friends, having the time of my life. Waking up, flipping through the one hundred pictures that I took last night, trying to decide the best ten to post on my Instagram. But that is not my life. Not even close. And no, honestly, I don't wish that to be my life. Not anymore. But, I guess I'm just wishing for something. I wish I had some sort of news. But instead, I wake up at 2pm, eat breakfast, and then go back to work. It's become a bit of a routine.

Two years ago I started a journey to actual healing. I was done carrying around the weight of my baggage. I just felt like with each year that past, that I didn't resolve or let go, the baggage only got heavier. I was done being a people pleaser. I was over dating men who did not treat me with respect. I was done being my mother's punching bag. I was done sleeping around, trying to find someone to fixed me. I knew that all of these things I was doing was because I needed to heal. Not just from my recent divorce, but from a lifetime of self-doubt, lack of self-worth, mommy issues, lack of self-love, and trauma.

I truly believed that was going to be the hardest part of this journey. And it was. It was so hard that I had to go on medication for the first time in my life. I could not handle the stress of what I was reliving, thinking about, and working through. The sadness, loneliness, uncertainty, and constant doubt if the pain was worth the result. Many times I thought about quitting, losing a bunch of weight, and jumping into another relationship, just so I could stop having to do the work I was doing. But I knew that the only way to get to the other side, to happiness, rather than fake happiness, was continuing to do the work. And so I did. And I don't regret it at all. It was worth all the pain. But it was not the hardest part of this journey.

This is.

I had this idea that when I was done with all the hard work that kept me crying myself to sleep and angry at the world, I would just have it all together. I would have a direction. I would be skinny again. I would meet someone spectacular. I would find out my purpose in life and have this unbelievable drive to obtain all this success. Basically, I would become all the things I thought I needed to be even though I went through the process of teaching myself that I didn't need to be any of those things. Does that make sense? Let me explain.

I spent the last two years working on self-love. Truly learning to love every part of me. Even the size I am now. Just eating the best foods that give me the most energy and are good for my body and doing yoga to heal my soul and not worrying about my size. I put total faith in my body, knowing that it knows exactly what to do. And if eating the best foods and working out caused me to lose weight, then so be it. And if it didn't, then that's okay too. Skinny does not equal healthy. And just because someone is larger does not mean that they are unhealthy. I've learned all these things, done the research, and truly believe every word I just said to you. So why, after all this time, did I expect to be skinny after I was through the "hard part" of this journey?

I spent the last two years determined to get away from men. Learning what I deserved and what I didn't. Learning how a man should treat you and what is okay and not okay for them to say to you. I spent so much time looking back on old red flags that I didn't look hard enough at in past relationships. I swore that I would be more independent and that I didn't need a man to complete me. I knew that I would possibly be in another relationship one day, but that it was not because I needed one but because some amazing man swooped in and said, "I love every inch of you, the good, the bad, the ugly.." But I was totally comfortable with staying single until that day came, be it 20 years from now. And I believe every word that I just said to you. So, why did I think that after this journey, I would just BE in a relationship?

I spent the last two years rewiring my brain to understand that success does not equal happiness. I spent so much time figuring out what makes me happy and that what matters is that, and that alone. That no amount of college degrees would improve my life. No amount of money or power or success would change me or make me feel more fulfilled. I wanted a simple life. A tiny home where I could write books and travel the world. I just wanted to a small amount of success, just enough to be able to enjoy my life without taking up the best parts of it. And I believe every word I just said to you. So, why did I think that I would have some amazing career, success and money at the end of this journey?

It makes me question everything.

It makes me wonder if I'm actually healing. If my brain still goes to, "I need success in order to look a certain way" and "I want a man in order to not feel alone" and "I want to be skinny, in order to be more desirable to others" am I actually healing? Have I done any work at all? When I started this new blog it was because I thought that I had outgrown my original blog. That I had healed so much that I didn't need it anymore. But, I have started to feel the last couple days, as I've stared at my new blog with nothing to write about, that maybe I know nothing at all. And then I came up with this.

There is NEVER going to be a time when I feel fully healed. Unless I decide to become a stubborn woman, set in my ways, and "this is the way I am, so live with it" which is not the way I think, then I don't know that there will ever be a time that I am not still growing and learning. But, I think that I become frustrated with the growing and learning at times. And I'm hoping for something amazing to happen to me. I become annoyed with the mundane day to day, I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin, and I feel like if I don't want to just wake up at 2pm every day, alone, and then go back to work, just to do it all again tomorrow. Sometimes I feel like I just need to MAKE something happen.

But the scary part about that is, I don't think that I have changed as much as I think I have. Sure, I am living my life the way I want to. And I am thinking more clearly than I ever have. My mental health is next to perfect and I am so content with who I am and where I'm going that it's almost scary. But, my brain. The part of me that, even though I'm saying out loud that I don't need success or to be super skinny, tells me the exact opposite. Pavlov would be proud of my ability to be so conditioned. He would be fascinated by my mind. And where I struggle now is not with anger about my past but with frustration about my future. What's next? I've stripped myself of all the pain and toxicity of my life. So, now what?

So, I guess that's why I feel confident in starting this new blog. Because it's true that I have left a lot of things in the past. The anger, the depression, the self-doubt, worthlessness, and trauma. I don't feel that those things control me anymore. I feel like moving on from that blog and onto a clean slate where I can move forward, is the right move for me right now. So, I don't regret starting this blog. Because I'm never going to be perfectly healed and there's never going to be a time that I'm too good for this blog, too good for healing, too good for improving, and too good for learning. I never want to be the kind of person who just expects people to love me how I am, even if I hurt people. I want to always be someone with enough insight to say, "You know what, that wasn't very nice..I'm sorry" and then work to change whatever caused me to say or do the thing that hurt someone.

But, seriously, what the fuck now? Like I said, I thought that working through the anger and trauma would be the hardest part. But it's not, this is. Sitting here wondering what's next. Wondering if enough time has gone by for me to start working toward something. Or if it's too early and if I make any big decisions now, I might fall hard back into old habits. I'm scared of the future and what that looks like. I don't know if I'm supposed to start making things happen or if I'll just be sitting in my chair one day and someone really important reads my blog and offers me a book deal. (Unlikely) But, which is the right move? Sit and wait or make things happen? Society will tell you that making things happen is the best way. Because if you're not working your ass off, as many hours as you can, getting as many degrees as possible, and exhausted all the time and never stopping, then you're lazy. It will tell you that you can't just sit around and wait for things to happen to you. And that's true to some extent. But, I'm also a strong believer in the happy medium. Where's that? What's that look like in this scenario?

Here's what I know. While I do not hate my life and I feel the most happy and content I've ever felt in my soul, I don't want to live in this studio apartment, alone, with my two cats, waking up at 2pm, and writing this blog for the rest of my life. So, do I keep doing what I'm doing and expect that it will just come to me, either a big opportunity or a big idea of what I could do? Or am I proactive? Go back to school, become something, work hard, exhaust myself yet again for another ten years. What if when that ten years is over, I find that what I've been working for all this time is not what makes me happy? What if I just get so wrapped up in the work that I stop focusing on what makes me happy. Only to wake up ten years from now and think, where did the time go and why did I do this? Essentially, putting myself back in the exact position I'm in now, but ten years from now.

So I guess you can say that this part of my journey isn't the hardest, it's more the scariest. I don't want to get into another relationship and have it end 7 years from now. I don't want to get another degree, in another career, only to find out I hate it. I don't want to lose a bunch of weight only to find out I'm restricting my eating again. I feel like if I move in any direction right now, I could be doomed. And man, that's scary as shit. So, I just sit here, in my apartment, with my cats, writing blogs. Because anything else feels too scary right now. I just hope that I don't wake up twenty years from now, in this same apartment, writing this same blog. Because the idea of that also scares the crap out of me. I'm in actual limbo right now. Unsure what to do and where to go. And that feels like more work and more anxiety than my trauma ever caused me.

I didn't know what this blog was going to be or if it would have a theme or a purpose, like the other one did. I can firmly say that I am on the other side of my trauma. But the other side of my trauma is fear of the unknown. I called this blog "unbecoming" because I truly believe that you have to unbecome what you've been told you have to be or what you should be your entire life, before you can become who you want to be. And I guess that's what this blog is. Me, unbecoming all the things I tell myself I don't have to be, yet but my brain still believes I do. I guess it's working forward into what's to come. I'm excited for the next chapter. I'm excited for this new blog. But I gotta say, there's a part of me that wants to go back in time, wrap myself in the blanket of The Five Stages of Fuck You and pretend I'm not here right now. I would rather face it all again than face what's next.