The Aftermath And Now

In order for this post to make sense, it is probably best to read the similar post that preceded this. The link to it is in the opening paragraph.
Coming out of one of the most difficult times of my life, the one thing I wanted to do was just get better and move on. I had poured my heart out to someone who had actually taken the time to listen. I felt like I had a genuine spiritual foundation. I had friends that accepted me exactly for who I was, even though I didn’t see them all the time. I would be starting at a private school for high school. I believed that to be enough to prove to those that had seen me at my lowest point that I was going to be all right. Especially my parents.
It was always about depending on something or someone to make it better; there were significant events that would put me on cloud nine for awhile, and cause me to think that it was the answer that I was looking for in order to heal.
And for a little while, it worked. But eventually, the whole thing would start to unravel, and I often wound up hitting bottom every single time. It was a pattern that continued through my senior year, my freshman year of college and even into the first week or two of this year.
This time around, it was Labor day weekend, and I had been left to my own devices for the second or third weekend in a row. I did my absolute best to pretend that I didn’t mind it, but on the inside I was incredibly lonely and just wanted to spend time with my friends. It made me anxious and even a little clingy, which I’d like to think that doesn’t happen very often
While sitting around wondering what I could do to keep busy, it suddenly hit me that I had once again idealized a situation, and it wasn’t turning out the way I had expected or hoped. It was devastating, mostly because my parents and several friends had warned me what was going to happen, and it did. I cried profusely for most of Saturday and Sunday night. It was like hanging off the edge a cliff and not knowing whether or not I was going to fall. I couldn’t think rationally, and it made me feel blind and helpless.
After a lengthy phone conversation with my Mom, I knew that this was not a situation that could be swept under the rug, at least not any longer. It was not just about the current circumstances, but more about what had been happening for the last five or six years. From those happenings came insecurities and bad habits that were practically taking over my life. 
Since that night, I have been doing what I should have done all those years ago; I’ve been sitting down with a counselor and taking the time to work through the stuff that I was either trying to at least run a fair distance from, or completely forget about altogether. I have been told that I make everything in my life so incredibly complicated; but the only way that life gets complicated is when you refuse to face whatever you’re struggling with. 
Each day has been bring so many lessons and insights to where this post would go on for eternity if if I went through them all at one time. There are some that I plan on sharing in the coming weeks, but for now I’ll focus on what has been the most profound (so far).
 I have been trying way too hard. When I first came to college, I had this ridiculous notion in my head that I needed to have everything figured out in order to get the most out of the next four years. I wanted so badly to start over and leave behind the person that I used to be; I thought that meant never discussing my past struggles or telling anyone that I was mildly handicapped (unless outright asked, of course). I didn’t want to ask for help. I thought that was what growing up and becoming an adult was about.
I don’t see it as necessarily being fake or two-faced, but rather that I have not shown very many people all of who I am as a person. For a long time, I have never liked the idea of my friends (and even my family) seeing the emotional/vulnerable side of me, because I don’t want to have relationships that have begun out of pain or hardship; meaning I don’t want anybody to think that they’re in my life solely for the sake of helping me get through a rough time. 
As it turns out, trying to be all “put together” does take its toll at some point or another. I don’t want to hide from people any longer, even if it means being left behind or rejected in the end. Out of all the people that I’ve met and gotten to know on campus, I’d say that there are only one or two people that genuinely know me. And of course, not everyone wants to know me or will take the time. However, I miss putting myself out there and sharing my heart with others. That is the main reason why I am writing this, and why I have this blog in the first place. 
I don’t know where this particular journey will take me; I don’t if it is a kind of healing, per say, or just a matter of working stuff out that has been long overdue. But for once, I am not trying to figure out where I’m going or what it all might mean. I’m just putting one foot in front of the other and soaking in whatever I can, for as long as it takes me to do so. There are some wonderful things happening right now, and going at a slow pace has enabled me to really appreciate them. 
I will say that I feel a sense of peace; even though I did technically put myself in this situation, I don’t regret it because I might have just kept going down the same unhealthy path that I was on for quite some time. In all that I have been experiencing, I have become a much stronger person because of it. I have better relationships with my parents and with my friends due to not telling them out of a sense of desperation, but simply because I want to.
Again, it’s hard to tell how certain things are going to turn out. However, I am not trying to crane my neck and see what’s coming up next, nor am I trying to prepare myself ahead of time. There definitely have been, and there will continue to be days where I don’t know what in the heck I’m doing, but that is normal.
I suppose that one could call it learning to dance in the rain. And as of this moment, that is enough for me.

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