The One That Got Away

There are lessons to be found here - but mostly, I do this so you can know me. 
Lately, as I write these, I realize they are as much for me as they are for you. This is the one place I can be completely open - the pen and paper has no judgement, no vote, it simply receives my truth and allows me to turn the page. 

And today, this is my truth. I am terrified a great deal of the time - afraid of what I've done, of what I'm doing, and of what I might have to do. 
It's not a crippling fear, in fact, it's just the opposite. I thrive on it, I crave it, I need that rush of terror to get me out of bed in the morning. It's in my DNA.

 I have tremendous remorse for the acts of violence I've committed, both planned and spontaneous. 
But I think what brings me the most sorrow is that I've learned to justify this behavior. I always find a reason, a cause, a need that allows me the karmic lubrication to stuff my guilt into a savage compartment. 
I’ve become the thing, the one I hated. 

And with that awareness comes periods of days, sometimes weeks, when I have to avoid looking into a mirror. My self-hate is so deep, so palpable, I fear I'll lunge at my own image, shatter the glass, and cut myself with shards of broken reflection.
 I've lost my sense. 

Now  my doubt and sense of fraudulence bark so loudly in my head that most of the time I can't hear anything else. Love, camaraderie, freedom - all the things I want from this life are lost in the din.

 Forgive my indulgence, but today may be a day we all remember. A defining day. 
And I want you to look back at this entry and know that at the very least, I was completely honest, so you know I speak the truth when I tell you that you are the most important thing to me. I'll never hurt you, never abandon you. I love you. 
More than anything or anyone. 

I always will.

/A

Choices

There will be days when you're forced to make decisions that affect the lives of everyone you love, choices that will change you forever.

 You reach an age where you realize that being a woman isn't about respect or strength, it's about being aware of all the things you touch.

 Children face inward, wallow in their own selfish needs. 
Women face out, take action on the needs of others. 

I'm at that place. 
I'm staring one of those decisions in the face and it looks back at me with historical eyes and it calls me a coward, a killer, a fraud.

 It wants me to crack and run from the service of my fate like a broken child.
 Today, I will not do that. 

A gift or a coffin

It's hard not to hate. 

People, things, institutions, when they break your spirit and take pleasure in watching you bleed, hate is the only feeling that makes sense. But I know what hate does to a man, tears him apart, turn him into something he's not, something he promised himself that he'd never become. That's what I need to tell you to let you know how hard I am trying not to cave under the weight of all the awful things I feel in my heart. 

Sometimes my life feels like a deadly balancing act, when I feel slamming up against what I should do, impulsive reactions racing to solutions miles ahead of my brain. 

When I look at my day, I realize that most of it was spend cleaning up the damage of the day before. In that life I don't have a future, all I have is distraction and remorse.

 Everyday is a new box, you open it and take a look at what's inside. 

You are the one who determine if it's a gift or a coffin.