My journey

 

Over and over again, I am reminded like a slap in the face, why I left the States.  I am a fully capable woman who by most standards is a success.  I love the fact that people who "know" me there love to constantly tell me what a failure I am.  I love how they, despite the facts, think I am incapable of functioning without them telling me what to do.  I love how, desite the fact I'm 30, they all still treat me like I'm 8 1/2.  They treat me like I have no idea how to function without them.  They treat me like I have never had a thought worth thinking ever. 

 

THEN wonder why I get pissed off and push away.  Why I run.  Why I panic when the suffering I feel causes me to close myself off and retreat.

 

I am never happier than when I'm not dealing with things from the States.  I am never happier when I don't think about the resonsiblities I have there.  The resonsiblities that I don't want.  It's even shittier that I absolutely love everyone there, but the expecations and the cost of those relationships are so detreimental to my soul.  I am sick and tired of being judged.  I wonder why I don't have any confidence left?  Why I overthink shit in my mind.

 

The things that are breaking or are broken are that way because I've spent so much time trying to please everyone and myself.  I've spent so much time trying to make the people I LOVE happy.  I've jumped through hoops and burning flames and over mountains.  Yet to no avail.  People see it as selfish, but its not.  I've done things that others wanted and that makes me selfish?  Wait til I can officially cut ties.  Just wait until I no longer have the responsiblities of going back to the States.  THIS girl, WILL NOT be headed there for as long as humanly possible. 

 

I can't trust.  I don't know how.  I'm such a fucking mess.  I feel like the moment I trust people, I make myself too vulnerable.  This vulnerablitiy leaves me naked and confused.  And then I leave myself open for judgement and expectations.  I need time away that I'm not connected to that old life.  Where I can rebuild my confidence and my trust in myself. 

 

January cannot come soon enough.