|and promises we never had the chance to keep, how typical, but nonetheless so tragic all the same|
okay, i just re-read that and i don't think that i am trying to get across.
i have been wrapped up in my own misery for so long that it has been difficult for me to accept that these scars and calluses i have picked over the years are not as raw as i have convinced myself.
intellectually, i understand that holding on to pain and loss is not health behavior, but its a completely different thing to accept, to move past.
in some ways i am blessed. i got to have a life that i wanted, that i had dreamed of, but then there is that same fact that reminds me that my life, such as it is, is not that way any longer. and having had, and lost, that life, i feel a profound sense of loss in it's absence.
these are things that are easier said than done.
i used to say that it was my feelings of uncertainty of a future that made me cling so hard to the past, but i am not entirely sure that was it, at least not entirely. the future has always been a source of a lot of anxiety, every night spent getting hammered and thinking that tomorrow will always suck.
fighting the notion that i am not who i had become, but what i was made into.
and if only.
there are days that the rest of my life feels like such a long time and without those vices to distract me, to mute the world and make everything vague and unfocused... well, i guess that was really the problem in the first place, that i have yet to figure out how to live and function like a normal adult.
its messy and painful and more often than not, unpleasant.
but i guess it beats the alternative.