I spent a good part of last year angry. Very, very angry. I guess it was bound to come.
I was angry at my ex, for reasons I could not even explain. But just his presence made me pissed off and wanting to smash his head in. Not a pleasant feeling.
The theater I was working at was pissing me off - and still pisses me off, if you get me started - but I really let it get under my skin and I made it very, very personal, which made me very, very angry.
Seems that everyone who crossed my path in the last six months of the year made me angry.
And I was angry that it seemed that everyone else could be angry and petty and ridiculous, except me, of course. And that made me even angier.
As 2008 came to a close, I realized I didn’t really like the person I was becoming. And that’s because I was becoming my mother. Everything was everybody else’s fault. No one understood me or cared about me. Everyone was against me. No one listened to me. No one cared.
I could see myself sitting alone in my living room, lights off, on my third glass of wine (which I will only count as my second and deny anything after that), flipping endless through the channels, looking for something to distract me from my lethargy and pathetic, empty, soulless life.
Now, I love my mom but she’s just one glass of wine from an alcoholic and probably should be on at least two different antidepressants. And I don’t want to be her.
I want 2009 to be the year of acceptance. Accepting my life as it is, in a very Taoist way. Not standing around, watching my life pass me by, but looking at what’s in front of me and making the absolute most out of it. Accepting the people around me for their foibles and their flaws as well as learning that it’s okay to not accept bullshit from people. Stand my ground without making it deeply personal and taking it to heart.
Accepting my talents without fear or shame or feeling the need to poo-poo that these talents exist. Accepting the praise without hiding.
Accepting that I am imperfect and that I don’t need to manipulate myself to meet others’ expectations. That doesn’t mean I get to stumble around and smash toes and feelings and everything else. It just means that I accept that there are things I could change and need to look at but it doesn’t mean that every little thing in me has to change. Accept criticism and do with it what I may, which means occasionally deciding not to apply it.
Accepting also means letting go. Letting go of the clowns in my head and renting out their space. Letting go of the pieces of my heart that have scattered to the wind and accept that they’re not coming back.
Letting go of trying to change things that just simply can’t be changed. I’m alone. That’s it. I’m not going to be forever (please, God, please) but I’m alone now. Letting go of needing to find someone to make me feel whole. The two men I let try to make me feel whole just left me shattered and broken. I need to accept that I need to make myself feel whole and let go of the notion that someone else can do that for me.
And just breathe into my life, embrace what is joyful and beautiful, acknowledge what is difficult and ugly, and pick up my feet and put one in front of the other and just keep moving through my life.
Accepting that I have to let go to finally find the life I want.
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