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What's Wrong With Me

The title can be said as a question with which you are asking to be informed what is, in fact, wrong with you. Or, you could say it confrontationally, as a method for stating that you believe that nothing, is in fact, wrong with you. Seemed fitting for this post after I wrote it - again without any real plan, of course. It's how I do. So - read on.

[Quote From The Phone Internets:]

I saw this quote tonight, and it struck me surprisingly deeply. Like someone had thrown a glass of lemon juice on the wound in my chest. It's the first line, and the last line - the tragedy part, I'm not sure I agree with.

The number of days I've carried a specific construct of feelings around that has many times caused me pain, is a lot. If I had to guess, I'd guess around 10,000 days. I don't see it as a tragedy, I see it as a part of me. It would sound great for me to be able to say, yep - solved it, I'm past that, that never pops into my mind anymore. Or that it never bothers me anymore - but that isn't true. So the wound, so to speak, travels with me always.

It's the "there's something wrong with me" thought construct, and if I cared to do so, I could probably plop its various faces into nice little folders with subtitles like "self-doubt", "existential teetering", "whyyyy", and so on. To generalize them all, it is a procession of why's and what's that circles around in my mind, centered around a whiny idea that perhaps something is wrong with me - more wrong than things that are wrong with other people. For me, the only time it seems to resurface these days is most certainly the most painful and frequent place it's ever surfaced in my life - love. Specifically, the idea of others loving me.

Look, I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I know there's at least one person, if he's reading, who is probably talking to the phone/computer right now and saying "there's nothing wrong with you, stop it, everyone does this!" I get it. But the thought persists for me, just as I know that some form of it has got to with others.

I know I'm not an easy person to love. Maybe easy from afar, or from a relatively shallow place, but the deep, real kind I've longed for so badly my entire life... nope. Not easy. Not a chance.

I don't necessarily play like others do. I'm very independent. I speak my mind, a lot. Also, I'm silent, a lot. I'm embarrassingly goofy. I have no issue telling truths that could cut a person down at the knees. I inquire deeply into those I care about - in the same way I want to understand any and everything that's important to me - I want to learn everything, analyze it, accept it, and hold it close to my heart. I dissect people and then love all of their guts. I am stubborn as hell, I'm intellectual, I'm a dreamer, I love hard, and I fight hard. Despite how sweet and goofy I can be, I am intense. And I don't take anything at face value. Nothing.

As if that wasn't enough, a sober single mom in recovery who does not wish to date anyone who drinks or does drugs. It's a lot.

Even as I write these things now, I LOVE myself this way. I seriously, really do. But that doesn't stop the "is something wrong with me?" dialogue from popping into my mind. It just comes in the form of questions like, should I want to change? Should I be trying to? Is that what I have to do in order to have someone love me so deeply, back?

I know that I don't want to change these things about myself. I am, however, open to changing as I learn, as I grow, as life presents new opportunities and new understandings. Organic change, I guess I'd call it. But picking myself apart, seeing what I see, and deciding some of the above has got to go... no.

So - is that wrong? I don't know. If being truly loved means that has to be wrong, I'm honestly not sure I want it. So I guess what I'm really questioning in these doubtful moments is...

Do others think something is wrong with me?

And when I put it that way - frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

And here you have it, I've once again talked myself through a mental dilemma for all of you to hear.

So I'm going to continue loving myself, letting my inner world pour out of my eyes as I see fit, and letting the outer world pour into them just the same. Maybe someday someone will dissect me and love all my guts, too.

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