Growing pains hurt.
It's easier for me to go into self-protection mode and rock myself eat for comfort.
Back when I used to go to OA meetings, my mantra was, as the 12 Steps encourage, to feel the feelings. Fucking A I don't want to!
I'd rather be dulled, because otherwise those around me are left with this even more out-of-control Jackie. That's not pretty. Those of you who actually know me, intimately, know I'm already kinda wheels-off.
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I consider myself a fairly strong communicator, but admittedly, I don't do well when I need to most. I'm either withdrawn, avoiding the issue, isolating, or I'm horribly tactless and downright vicious. Why do there have to be extremes?
To find that middle ground is the work.
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I've been trying for the last few weeks to do some weight work. My blood pressure is borderline high, I'm slowly backing down from the highest weight I've ever been, blahblahblah.
I talk out of both sides of my mouth, all while I stuff down feelings for self-protection.
Irrational to those with logical minds. Completely rational to those who are like me.
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Today I'm pouting about doing the work. Today I'm pissed that I'm not who I want to be. Today, I'm struggling with too many emotions and they're all just pouring out of my eyes, my hands. My busybrain wants to panic. Yet, somewhere, nested in the cobwebs is reason and hope.
Today is a good day.
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