I can justify anything. I’m really really good at it. I’ve always been really good at justifying when it comes to making purchases, going on trips, or eating candy. I’ve also been really awesome at justifying poor decisions and self-harming behaviours.
The thing I’ve realized that I’ve never been good at is actually justifying my feelings. In fact; I’d even go so far to say I was a fantastic un-justifier in those situations. And to be fair I still am (though I am more aware and working on it). I don’t let myself just have a feeling without picking it apart to decide if I can allow myself to have it or not.
My brain gets in the way. I can’t help but get caught into the thinking trap; that logical reasoning part must figure everything out before I can give myself permission to actually be with what’s there. It’s like if I can’t make sense of it OR if I’m not happy with what it means (after I go down a long list of all the things I think it says about me and my life if it is there) then I just refuse to let myself feel it, and more often than not – beat myself up for it being there in the first place.
It’s a trap I’m so used to getting caught in that it’s more like a home that just always has cheese and a broken door.
I know I need to break out of this habit; hold onto my worth (which is really at the base of being able to own our feelings) and validate my experiences with compassion. I know this. And somehow I’m still munching on cheese, complaining of a stiff neck.
And I know, change is hard. It’s not easy to break habits. But I don’t think that’s the entire story here. I think part of what makes it so fucking hard to get out of this trap is that truly validating those feelings without minimizing or convincing myself I’m wrong or that I shouldn’t feel that way, creates a whole new level of emotions. If I’m not wrong to feel this way, what then? ….Aaaannd I’m back in the trap.
Justifying my emotions is not as fun as justifying a Starbucks Venti Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot of espresso. There are way more consequences to justifying feelings than there is to drinking a day’s worth of calories.
Fun or not, I know it’s incredibly important I get better at this.
“She looks up at the building, says she’s thinking of jumping. Says she’s tired of living. She must be tired of something.”
If you asked me how I was doing right now (and I didn’t cowardly say “fine”) I would say “awesome and horrible”. I am proud that I can hold both parts, not denying either part of my experience, embracing the grey. I am proud of that, but at the same time it’s not good enough. I’m not staying stuck here. I refuse to do that. I mean fuck, I don’t just dislike cheese – I’m fucking allergic to it.