I don’t know what I believe…

I’m back on the work horse as I’ve spent enough time feeling sorry for myself and my husband. It feels so unhealthy to have had the week I did last week. Nothing I can do about that it’s in the past and now I stride forward.

My dress today is a bit of a symbol of where I am at. It’s not black and it’s not white its a bit blue and still a bit of a mix up. There is a lot of black though as I let go of a number of ideals I had in my head how my life was going to look. It’s funny through this time I have been my worst judge. I don’t need it from other people but I am sure as I walk forward people will add their pieces. Like my work I truly believe every case is different and needs a new method put upon it. Let’s face it no one believes a label that says “one size fits all”. 

Time has a way of healing. I think it’s because we learn skills to heal a certain part of you. Tonight I am leaning on strangers walking a simlar path, it will be nice not to feel judged by people who are making the choice I made. 

My outfit today is all Modcloth with a Glassons blazer.  

     

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5 thoughts on “I don’t know what I believe…

  1. Have you “let your ideals go”, or have your ideals just changed as your life & priorities shifted?

    As a young child, I had an older cousin who was a lawyer. She was a woman with her own apartment, her own money; she did what she wanted & went where she pleased. At 9 years old, I thought I wanted to be her because it looked like no one told her what to do.

    At ten, my maternal grandfather raped me & I withdrew from everything. Friends, school. I forgot that I wanted to be any goddamn thing and just sort of existed but didn’t really live. I started raiding the liquor cabinet in junior high & then I wanted to be drunk enough to not remember how my grandfather felt in top of & inside of me. I kept drinking till I was thirty-five. Oh sure, I managed to get an M. A. in British Literature in between benders, I worked. But I had no real friends. No healthy relationship. No clue how small my life was because as long as I filled it with scotch, it seemed OK.

    When I finally stopped (dragged to an AA meeting against my will after almost dying of alcohol poisoning) I realized I had no idea how to live. I knew how to exist. But not how to live. I had to learn what’s really important. And what’s really important is health, sanity, family, good company, being present.

    • Your right I’m in a period of transition and just a bit tender. I know my friends, family and husband are the most important things. My “good time” is coffee and sunshine in my window. Materialism doesn’t matter. I’m lucky enough to have a beautiful home and good job and this week I’m focusing on what I do have, rather than what was lost at the hand of another.
      I am terribly sorry to hear what happened to you. Buying clothes used to make me happy until I had no money to do this little past time. But life goes on and I will replace my habit with a newer, healthier one.

      • No…don’t be sorry for me. I lived. I’m still here. In the 2 1/2 years I’ve been sober, I lost 115 lbs, I made real friends. I forgave my grandfather. There is life after disaster.

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