Not the best week. Trump was elected President and I self-harmed. Those events were unrelated. Although I’m not happy with the outcome of the election, I have enough spiritual insight to realize that saying you choose love and then sending hate is hypocrisy. It takes a stronger person to walk away and send light, that’s the only way to beat the darkness. You rise above it because otherwise you join it. Love is a higher frequency than hate. They feel so different. That’s why children are so magical, they think the world is kind and good.

While I prefer to share stories of optimism and courage, I’m not going to hide what happened. The cuts are healing quickly which reminds me how efficiently and automatically my body repairs itself. It’s me who undermines my progress. It wasn’t one thing; it’s never one thing. The emotional pain had been building up for a few weeks – feelings of overwhelm, frustration, and hopelessness. Even though I have the answers and the ability, I let the darkness win. I let my fears and phobias get the best of me. I hit my breaking point and had to let the pain out. I needed relief. I wanted to cause myself pain for: not being perfect, trying to please others, being in slow motion, letting people down, being the scapegoat, and needing permission instead of trusting myself.

I’m being too hard on myself and overly critical again. Neither of which are helpful. I have to love myself first before anyone else can. When I am being joyful, I become a magnet for happiness. I need to follow my heart to find the right path. I have to let go of the shame and guilt. I didn’t do anything wrong. My life is mine to live, and if I’m living it wrong then that’s my problem. And no one tells me when I will be ready for something. You get ready by doing, not talking about it. I don’t need any more stress; it undermines my ability to feel better. Stress is a sign that I’m forgetting to breathe, believe, and break free. I’m creating my world with my thoughts. Create a vision board.

I don’t regret going to California for the book fair, and I don’t care if it looked like I went out there to see a guy. So fucking what? I guess you’ve never listened to the whispers of your soul and the aching in  your heart. I wanted to be in the book fair. And I wanted to see him. You can have more than one reason for doing something. Thank God I did something this year to celebrate the book and my hard work instead of letting people talk me out of it. I give myself credit for my accomplishments. I made my dream a reality. It was only a bad idea in the sense that writing a book can be a very isolating experience.

Cutting is short-term relief like the numbing effects of an alcoholic drink. I wasn’t dissociating as bad as last time, the time I wrote about in the book. See, it’s been awhile. I’ve been doing really good with my self-love practice. I had a choice this time, moments of clarity, but I wanted to punish myself for not being, I don’t even know what, someone else. Someone faster. Someone who’s loved and adored. Someone who isn’t a burden. Someone who is perfect and doesn’t make mistakes. Someone who doesn’t resist life. The old me. The me I can’t find. The me who was brave and strong. Release the pain through art making and let the image speak. Put marker to paper instead of knife to arm. Find healthy ways to express difficult feelings. Choose peace.

I thought of a new affirmation: It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be. And maybe when I let myself be, things become perfect. Take it easy, take it slow, one day at a time. Life is to be enjoyed. I can bloom, I can dance, I can sing, I can love. I am free to be me! 🙂

Have a great week,

Julie