Worthy
Tonight, while I should have been sleeping, I watched a movie called Beautiful Boy. It chronicles a father and son's journey through the son's meth addiction, recovery, relapse. At the end of the movie, the son is alive by some miracle and it turns out the movie is based on a true story. The real Nic is sober 8 years, taking it day by day. I found myself crying at the end of the film, not because i can relate to that particular addiction,or even out of empathy, but because I realized that I'm an addict, too.
I'm addicted to unworthiness.
I'm lucky in a lot of ways. I hope that if anyone reads this they won't think I'm equating the severity of drug addiction to my current circumstance. That is to say, I understand how serious that drug addiction is. I guess for me, I see unworthiness as a different sort of serious issue. It can seep through into the soul.
I don't know how this all started. I can't remember a time when I didn't feel this way. There are times of recovery, when it seems like maybe I'll be fine. Then, "out of nowhere", the desire to return to my addiction rears its' ugly head. I think of all of the many ways I have failed myself, my loved ones... how easy it is to become unbearably weighed down by shame and self-loathing. How easy it is to turn to petty pursuits to try and numb the pain. How easy to pretend that everything is fine.
I think there might not be a cure. Maybe it's the same with all things that take hold of your life... two steps forward, three back. I surround myself with those who are fellow "addicts", all searching for something to pull us out of the pit. I've let the culture around me dictate how i feel about myself. Words like fat, failure, stupid, trainwreck, hot mess... these are said by myself to myself in some sort of glib way that is supposed to come off as a joke. I'm actually really funny, all of my friends say. What i never realized until this moment, is that i've been hiding behind humor as a last defense. It's the only thing left I feel kind of okay about. And when someone thinks I'm not funny, what do I have left?
This is not supposed to be some kind of depressing, woe-is-me sort of thing. "They" say, the first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem. Somehow, voicing these thoughts here makes it real to me. It shows me the things I struggle with aren't all in my head. I have all of these ridiculous song lyrics from the past two decades stored away in my brain, and yet I can't seem to counteract the negative self-talk that seems to appear on an alarmingly frequent basis.
The thing is,though... I am worthy.
The shape of my body does not make me unworthy.
The stretch marks and acne do not make me unworthy.
Failing out of college nine years ago does not make me unworthy.
Being divorced does not make me unworthy.
My sexuality or lack thereof does not make me unworthy.
Being poor does not make me unworthy.
Making mistakes (many of them!) does not make me unworthy.
I'm not worthy because I've done anything right. I'm worthy in spite of all that I've done wrong. I don't have to change a single thing about myself and yet I can change everything about my perspective. I know it will not be easy. I will probably shed a lot more tears, have a lot more late nights of contemplation, and feel very discouraged along the way. The difference between now and three hours ago is this: I don't want to drag myself down anymore. I desire more for myself.
I honestly don't know how this will look. I don't know what my first, second, or thirtieth steps will be. I do know that I don't want to be chained down to the ideals that I've held for myself. The possibility of failure is the father of self-doubt. Easier to fail by not trying, amirite? Except for, in my case, the path of least resistance is becoming harder and harder to tread. It doesn't feel like the easy way anymore. So many years of burdening myself down with shame, guilt, feelings of failure... I just want to be free.
There's a song that I used to listen to way back into my youth, funnily enough it's called "free". The whole song doesn't resonate the same as it used to, but I find the opening verse still uncannily does:
I'm addicted to unworthiness.
I'm lucky in a lot of ways. I hope that if anyone reads this they won't think I'm equating the severity of drug addiction to my current circumstance. That is to say, I understand how serious that drug addiction is. I guess for me, I see unworthiness as a different sort of serious issue. It can seep through into the soul.
I don't know how this all started. I can't remember a time when I didn't feel this way. There are times of recovery, when it seems like maybe I'll be fine. Then, "out of nowhere", the desire to return to my addiction rears its' ugly head. I think of all of the many ways I have failed myself, my loved ones... how easy it is to become unbearably weighed down by shame and self-loathing. How easy it is to turn to petty pursuits to try and numb the pain. How easy to pretend that everything is fine.
I think there might not be a cure. Maybe it's the same with all things that take hold of your life... two steps forward, three back. I surround myself with those who are fellow "addicts", all searching for something to pull us out of the pit. I've let the culture around me dictate how i feel about myself. Words like fat, failure, stupid, trainwreck, hot mess... these are said by myself to myself in some sort of glib way that is supposed to come off as a joke. I'm actually really funny, all of my friends say. What i never realized until this moment, is that i've been hiding behind humor as a last defense. It's the only thing left I feel kind of okay about. And when someone thinks I'm not funny, what do I have left?
This is not supposed to be some kind of depressing, woe-is-me sort of thing. "They" say, the first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem. Somehow, voicing these thoughts here makes it real to me. It shows me the things I struggle with aren't all in my head. I have all of these ridiculous song lyrics from the past two decades stored away in my brain, and yet I can't seem to counteract the negative self-talk that seems to appear on an alarmingly frequent basis.
The thing is,though... I am worthy.
The shape of my body does not make me unworthy.
The stretch marks and acne do not make me unworthy.
Failing out of college nine years ago does not make me unworthy.
Being divorced does not make me unworthy.
My sexuality or lack thereof does not make me unworthy.
Being poor does not make me unworthy.
Making mistakes (many of them!) does not make me unworthy.
I'm not worthy because I've done anything right. I'm worthy in spite of all that I've done wrong. I don't have to change a single thing about myself and yet I can change everything about my perspective. I know it will not be easy. I will probably shed a lot more tears, have a lot more late nights of contemplation, and feel very discouraged along the way. The difference between now and three hours ago is this: I don't want to drag myself down anymore. I desire more for myself.
I honestly don't know how this will look. I don't know what my first, second, or thirtieth steps will be. I do know that I don't want to be chained down to the ideals that I've held for myself. The possibility of failure is the father of self-doubt. Easier to fail by not trying, amirite? Except for, in my case, the path of least resistance is becoming harder and harder to tread. It doesn't feel like the easy way anymore. So many years of burdening myself down with shame, guilt, feelings of failure... I just want to be free.
There's a song that I used to listen to way back into my youth, funnily enough it's called "free". The whole song doesn't resonate the same as it used to, but I find the opening verse still uncannily does:
Turnin' molehills into mountains,
Makin' big deals out of small ones,
Bearing gifts as if they're burdens,
This is how it's been.
Afraid of coming out of my shell,
Too many things I can't do too well,
Afraid I'll try real hard, and I'll fail
This is how it's been.
This is how it's been. This is not how it is going to be. I'm still just as afraid of failure as ever. I just can't let it happen to me for lack of trying. I want to be more real with myself than I've been in my adult life. I really want to dig into who I am, and come up bloody but with answers. I may take a break from social media. I may evaluate the people I surround myself with. I may make changes. BUT. These changes are not to make myself more worthy. They are to help me to embrace the worthiness I already contain. The worthiness to be loved. To embrace my outer beauty. To allow my inner self to shine through. To make mistakes, and to get back up. To take care of myself. The worthiness of forgiving myself.
until the next insomnia episode,
Mari.
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