Resentful Relaxation, Part 1

This journal entry was written on November 10th, 2017- a month after my car accident.
As I relax and lounge about today without guilt attached to my pleasure, I remember that I wasn’t always so kind to myself. And that it is still very difficult for me to allow myself rest without feeling burdened by my own “weakness.” Without shaming myself for being a human being with physical and mental needs. These were, and sometimes still are, my thoughts.

I find often that I resent relaxation.

It feels like I haven’t earned it, don’t deserve it.

Where does this come from?

From the deep recesses of my resentment for self. I feel like I need to push myself, consistently and almost as if I am delivering a consequence to myself that I have long developed from my mediocre- to- deadly karmic debate within my morals.

If I have been battling karma, why have I found it to be an enemy? There have been many blessings thrown my way and I have been equally resentful to accept them.

I have been addicted to the struggle with a love for danger more deadly than the danger itself.

I fun fast and hard toward it, as if not reaching it would be not deserving to stay on the runway toward it, and certainly not allowing myself to walk back home and lay down in exhaustion.

I have been obsessed with the perspectives of outsiders who have glorified my ambition and daring personality, refusing to accept the average, and screaming for attention from those that have delivered my ego a pedestal.

But the truth is, I’m afraid of heights, and I have weak ankles.

But do I accept this truth? Never.

I climb higher and tread harder than ever when I sense these weaknesses hindering me. But maybe they’re not weaknesses. Maybe they are just characteristics that have arisen simply because I am human. Characteristics that don’t deserve to be judged and shamed as unadmirable and undesirable, simply because they don’t afford me the pedestal.

I don’t need anymore ego boosts.

My accident triggered my issues and made me more convinced that I had to beat them all at once and bat them all out of the way with one fell swoop.

But I was too tired. Too tired and too humbled.

The amount of energy this kind of task would have required would have only been possible with the ego I previously found to be “me”, “myself”.

But that ego refused to acknowledge the weaknesses, as it called them. It refused to acknowledge whole parts of personality and characteristics that it found undesirable.

Focusing on survival does that to people.

I haven’t been through a literal, bomb-flinging war. But I feel traits of PTSD that I hear about on shows, that I see in movies, and that I read in psychology. I try not to invest myself so much in my research and my observations personally. But there’s a reason I’m drawn to them. There’s a reason I’ve been seeking them out and hoping to un-dig some nugget of treasure, get a taste of some insight. My research and observations are very personal.

My trauma is very personal, and I feel it writhing under the tendons that tighten when I’m fearful. I feel it sinking in my chest when I am drowning in a memory. I feel it pulsing in my temples and tensing in my back.

And my mind has wrought an awful lot of pain upon my body.

People can tell me that things are “accidents” and to not “read too much into them.” But from my personal experiences that’s not the correct way to handle my incidents of fate.

I have done the tried and not-so-true routine of brushing off massive attacks of terror and pain that strike from real life onto my spirit. I’ve ignored many a sign from God/the Universe and seen where it’s gotten me.

It’s gotten me into deeper and deeper trouble as I have tried to rationalize and plan it away into my subconscious of disregard. You see, there is no true method of moderation in my brain yet.

It is constantly a push and pull of all-or-nothing attitudes.

And although I have recently began to invest in this skill of not going 0 to 100 or 100 to 0, I’ve realized it is spiritually unwise to take the universe shaking me upside down as simply an incident, and walking through the fire anyway.

I’ve danced with god and the devil before, and not been able to decipher between the two.

I’ve felt surrounded by evil energy that attempted to infiltrate my entire being, and talked back to it as if I had more weight to throw than 135 pounds.

And I have been very, very angry at the fact that my 135 pounds could not move the wall of illness. I have been very, very angry at myself for throwing the very body that is already ridiculed with pain, at an object of pain.

It makes no sense. No logical sense. To try solving pain with pain.

But it seems logical in a mind that has learned to distrust itself.

Sometimes it seems like all catastrophes have somehow been crafted against a force only because that force deserves to be destroyed.

Ironically, I have felt myself to be both the catastrophe and the force.


May you be well, May you be happy, May you be free from suffering

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