Sanguine
How do we grant ourselves permission to accept that it is okay to not be okay even when everyone around us has been utterly convinced that we have transformed into someone greater than our struggles? We often impose significant pressure on ourselves to persevere, operating under the assumption that we have moved beyond our challenges and that they should no longer burden us. However, these challenges continue to be an integral part of our identity, serving as a reminder of the experiences that have contributed to our ongoing development. When we were still grappling with our struggles, encountering a bad day would serve as a catalyst for reverting to detrimental habits. However, when confronted with a grueling day, we possess greater understanding that enables us to let the day pass, recognizing that it is temporary and will not endure.
I encounter difficulties in permitting myself to embrace peace, as I have never truly had the opportunity to experience it; its sensation feels alien to me. I frequently question my entitlement to such serenity. I often attribute the loss of peace in my life to my own actions in various situations. My ongoing search for a return to my previous self is met with the realization that the individual I once was, was intentionally left behind. It is more advantageous to transform into a new identity, taking with me the aspects I valued most, while refining them in a way that fosters personal maturing. This process involves integrating traits from various personas I have encountered. It is akin to a leaf drifting down a river, never to return, yet navigating through waves of versatile, perpetually advancing toward an unknown destination. As I progress, I carry along with me, insight of a purpose that soon awaits my arrival.
I once felt ashamed of my beliefs, my sexuality, and any aspect that distinguished me from others; however, I have now come to embrace every facet of my identity. Following numerous traumatic experiences, I complied with the expectations placed upon me, driven by a fear of disappointing others or provoking an undesirable situation. After losing the power of being in control of my body, I experienced an overwhelming sense of guilt and lost the genuine understanding of the word "no," as I ceased to prioritize my own protection. Gradually, I have started to find comfort within myself, recognizing that I possess the strength to prevent others from exerting any influence over me.
I am gradually developing my capacity for self-control, discerning what influences to embrace and what to exclude. Safeguarding my tranquility is essential for my recovery; I hold the reins of my journey, and the manner in which I progress is entirely dependent on the effort I invest. Each morning, the most significant decision I confront is the choice to persist. Typically, I cling onto a mindset centered on simplicity; however, the world around me is progressing rapidly, and I am confident in my ability to adapt. This is the moment I have long anticipated; I have successfully fashioned an imperfectly perfect existence. The pressing inquiry now is, how long can I maintain this pace?
