messy me

i was just about to do the washing up from last night when i was overcome with the realisation of how fucking messy life is. and i never want to give the impression that life is anything other than what it is. or that i’m anything other than what i am. i’m a messy person and i’m full of flaws and things i don’t particularly love about myself. hey, i’m workin on it! but it’s a life long process. i was a bit scared to put this out there because i don’t want to ~manifest~ negative things into the world. but this isn’t that. this is just an honest evaluation of who i am right now. the things about myself that i don’t exactly advertise to the world. but i think this sort of honesty is important because it’s the only way we can move forward and hold ourselves accountable. growth is only made possible by genuinely evaluating where we stand, uprooting the things we want to change, and making space for us to move towards where we want to be. i need to reflect upon my flaws so i can cultivate awareness and, gradually, shift my perspective. it’s all a process.

 



 

i let the dishes pile up most nights and call it ‘self care’. routine is everything to me but i’ll break it more than i keep it. i don’t practice what i preach. i know meditation is good for me but i don’t make the time to do it every day. i don’t wash my clothes until i run out of oversized tees and even then i’ll still live in the same pair of jeans. i haven’t worn my retainer in months. my pop texts me ‘i love you’ every few days and sometimes i forget to respond. i don’t call home every night. i forget to update my parents. to let them know how i’m doing. to remind them i love them. i get attached to things quickly. i have a hard time letting go of how i think things should be and just letting them be as they are. i forget that people show love differently. i get anxious a lot. i get stuck in loops of dissociative thought until i convince myself nothing is real. i purposefully recall painful memories when i’m sad. i romanticise sadness, turn it into poetry, make it into something it’s not. i don’t allow myself to be fully present with uncomfortable emotions. i tend to view myself from the eyes of other people. i forget who i am every now and again. i dont treat myself as gently, as compassionately, as i should. i’m not as patient as i should be. i have a big fucking ego and a sense of entitlement. i talk over the top of other people. or i don’t talk at all. i can get trapped in ‘moods’, certain ways of conceptualising the world. i forget sometimes that i’m fallible. or i forget that no one expects me to be infallible. i forget sometimes that it’s okay to struggle and it’s okay to not know all the answers. i forget sometimes to love myself as i should.

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