Where Are We Supposed To Be?

Where we are supposed to be is someplace in the present. It’s the place we we feel safe, where we feel loved, where we feel most familiar, where everyone knows us, and where we know everyone. I know this place, hell we all know this place, and I think we often forget that this place exist.

We tell ourselves we’re not good enough, we’re not ready, we’re not “quite there¬†yet” to feel safe.

We do this by calling ourselves names, jumping into old vices, doing anything and everything to stop ourselves from feeling loved.

We don’t feel safe because we don’t allow ourselves to feel safe.

Self. Sabotage.

Sabotage manifests from our own limiting beliefs, which are created and ingrained in us by the age of seven. Then, through confirmation bias, these limiting beliefs only get stronger over time.

Society will remind us, nay, badger us, that our limiting beliefs are real: we’re too ugly, we’re not rich enough, we’re not good enough, we’re not what society deems us as desirable… reminding us that we’re not important.

Some get badgered more than others, while others are privileged enough to have it a little bit easier to breakthrough.

Regardless… because of all the badgering, by the time we reach our 20s, these limiting beliefs are cemented into a vault digitally locked into our brain: the key code floating with numbers of a combination we’ll grow to forget.

How do we get back to the familiar? How do we get to our safe place? How do we open the vault?

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She Popped In My Head Again… and I’m pissed. update #3 on life change

Again I’m not going to edit this or read it over.

I’m here to spew so let’s spew. It’s more real that way, anyway.

Beyond the anger, frustration, despair, and desolation is a fork standing at attention, it poking The Halal Guys beef bowl I brought home to devour. However, I can’t really enjoy this delicious beef bowl because she’s poisoning my brain once again and I’m simply angry.

Yes, I’m talking about my ex of so many years ago and I need to write this out: unlike the other posts, I’m not going to delete this one. I’m tired of being silenced: writing things out is how I’m able to cope with so many things left unsaid.

I want her out of my head. She’s a trigger that halts my life and I end up doing destructive things to myself. I need to write this out or I might fall back to my vices.

It sucks because it may look like I’m a fucked up individual, a fucked up – crazy ex boyfriend. It hurts because I’m trying to find the balance between being able to take off these mental shackles that are pulling me down… while also being respectable.

Whenever I hear stories about my friends’ exes and the things the negative things they say, I often times think about my own actions and if I was a shitty boyfriend and if I will and am a shitty ex.

Here it goes…

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