Dear universe,
I don’t feel like me, in fact, I haven’t for a while. I don’t know me anymore. I used to think that it was a faze and any day I would resume feeling like me. It’s been almost 3 years and I don’t know of a faze that lasts this long. I think I have to build a new me. That is hard to grasp. It won’t be easy, creating an entirely new me. Deciding who this new person who’s body I inhabit is. Deciding what it is she likes and dislikes. What it is she needs and wants. I’m not sure I am cut out for it honestly. I continually become overwhelmed with the thoughts of the incapability of my human nature. Often times I find myself overstimulated and worried of the future. Confused and unsure. It is as if I become stuck in a timeline that isn’t meant to be mine. As if I was suddenly dropped into a body of a Bethany somewhere. Just not mine. Pieces of this Bethany are similar, scarily so… but it isn’t the same one. I wonder if that is why my memory is spotty, my mind feels cloudy and I hardly know left from right. I have a hypothesis on the matter of how I ever got here in the first place. Well, here it is, I think that maybe because I spent 6+ years of life, letting my main focus and fuel be anger. I was angry with my parents, friends off an on, myself, God… the list goes on. I sometimes feel as though I did certain things not because I actually wanted to but because I knew that someone from that list wouldn’t want me to. Including sometimes my self without intending to. I’m not sure why I chose to live my life that way. I think in part it was immaturity and on the other hand I think it was in part my simple longing for a purpose in this crazy world we live in. I felt so lost trying to pursue other things. I remember screaming once in a fit of anger that “I tried that… I tried it all and nothing works. I tried it all for periods of time they said and it feels like each and every one of those things was pointless.” I felt like every route I had explored to heal the hurt I felt just hadn’t worked. I felt that no person, medication, God or physical item could help. I think that is when the downward spiral started. You see, I grew up learning to use my imagination, constantly. It was encouraged in simple play when I was very young and became a means of survival to escape any hard times as I grew up. Which I think then subconsciously taught me that when times seemed hard or difficult I could simply imagine the fix or remedy. If my room felt too small, I could simple imagine myself living somewhere else or go outside and imagine I lived there. If a friend hurt my feelings, I could imagine having this wonderful come-back that would rock their world. If my parents where fighting, I could imagine having perfect parents or that I was an orphan. If I felt chubby or didn’t like my hair, I could simple imagine a perfect me and pretend to be her for a while. Or sometimes my imagination wasn’t used as remedy but rather an escape, I would imagine a world in which myself and often times my siblings could escape to whenever times got rough. This world was perfect. I remember arguing with my siblings so they wouldn’t make our fictional characters fight… this world was meant to be perfect. Now, don’t get me wrong, I think imaginations are wonderful. I think every child should learn how to use theirs. I just think I personally got too carried away that before long I preferred the imaginary world that I lived in more than the physical and since I spent more time there any way it became my preferred way of handling the world in the good and bad. I could always imagine. I think then when others upset me, sometimes rightfully so. I would later imagine something that would upset them and do that instead of who knows what I actually wanted to do. I know Mom wouldn’t like if I watched that one movie, so I did. I knew God wouldn’t like it if I said that curse word, so I did. I knew my friend wouldn’t like it if I told this other friend her dirty secret, so I did. I knew I wouldn’t like me if I didn’t eat anything that day, so I didn’t. I spent so long trying to heal my hurt by taking revenge on those who hurt me that I began to forget what I liked to do and be beforehand. Now, here is the crazy part, as I type this my thoughts include. “You’re overthinking it, no one cares, you’re imagining a remedy right now, this is stupid because aren’t you simple coming up with an excuse for things you have done…etc.” You know what, maybe I am. However, I’d much rather these words be on a blog no one will read than in my head where I have to hear them constantly.
Well, that concludes my own personal therapy session. Well, not quite. Before you freak out, please note that many of the things I have written above are exaggerated versions of actual happenings. For creative reading effect only. Now the one that remains true is that I don’t feel like me, haven’t for a while. I am in the process of building a new me. Who is Bethany now? The one who is a mom, daughter, friend, wife and so much more. I’m beginning to learn the new me and I like her a lot so far. I have very few friends who have managed to stick around during figuring myself out, you know who you are and I am forever grateful for you.
If you have any tips for learning who you are post motherhood/ life change. Comment below. Until next time. ☾☼
Dear universe, 