When my parents were together, I always had more.
My parents made sure me and my siblings always had new clothes, sports equipment, food on the table, tv to watch. Although strict, they always provided us with every tool we needed to succeed and be happy.
and then they split.
and suddenly we didn’t have.
They had their own battles we didn’t really understand at the time and while one parent was able to build themselves a new life, the other could not. I bounced between the two, and found that more often than not, I no longer was being provided the necessary tools to survive, let alone succeed.
I would count on friends for food, and even had a friend buy me new school clothes.
There were times where I wasn’t sure if I was going to wake up the next morning my sugar was so low. Having a nice meal meant cutting up months old hot dogs for the third day in a row.
It was rough.
However, I survived.
And here I am. Writing this blog post and pay my own bills. Having the opportunity to decide what I was going to eat, not wondering if I was. I bought my own car, will be buying my own house, and will be taking care of myself.
Yet, I am never truly happy.
I always find myself wanting more. One victory is great but no matter what it isn’t good enough.
Is always wanting more a curse?
Because I went so long without (we are talking about 7 to 8 years before I was able to get my first job) I decided I never wanted to feel the way I felt in that time span again. If there was even a moment where I thought I couldn’t pay a bill on time I was devastated. I guess at some point I resolved that if I kept wanting more and achieving more I would get farther and farther away from that reality.
What has grown is a hunger that has caused my depression to get worse. Where there are moments where I want more so badly, I have then convinced myself that what I have accomplished isn’t good enough.
Whatever steps I have taken to better my life at that point are void, and it is like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.
Let me tell ya, it fucking sucks.
To know I am my worst critic, but also know that it is going to take a lot to stop is so…. draining. This is the conversation:
“I feel like I am always tired and can never be happy. Why?”
“Well you have done so much for yourself, by yourself, and you have yet to fully enjoy it.”
“But I have to do more.”
And the cycle continues.
I cannot express to you, my reader, how badly I have tried to be proud of what I have done. How badly I want to just sit back and smile and say, “Bitch yasssssssss!”
But I can’t. And because of it I have accomplished a lot in a little amount of time but life is flying by. I sat down at the end of February and decided I needed new glasses and new shoes.. Guess what I finally bought a couple of days ago and today?
I haven’t even taken the shoes out of the box…
It takes all of me to be proud of myself.
Constantly running away from that period of my life, day in and day out. Trying not to revert back into that little girl that was waiting on someone to save her. Because to be real towards the end of that people stopped coming. I no longer had friends that were willing to feed me and clothe me. I had to figure it out all on my own and that was scary.
I truly believe that my self love journey starts from within.
It will never truly start, and I will not truly start to repair myself, until I have learned that what I have is enough. I have worked so hard and deserve to enjoy it. I am no longer suffering and just because others still are, it does not make it my fault.
I will always keep moving forward, but before I try to say the grass is greener on the other side, I may need to admire my own growth first.