Insomnia. I hate it.
When I typed hate I realized I use that word alot to describe my emotions and infimities. I think I use that term because I feel like they reflect who I am. I hate insomnia. I hate anxiety. I hate depression. I hate PTSD. I hate migraines. I hate infertility. I hate diabetes. I hate asthma. I hate cancer. I hate sexual abuse.
Ever have those epiphanies that really hurt, but are somehow wow moments too? This is one of those times. Hate. I define myself as the things that I listed. Weaknesses, diseases, and infirmities all things that I hate. So each time I hate them I am vocalizing my hatred of myself more and more because I do not allow a separation between the infirmity and who I really am.
My words do not do the feelings justice unfortunately. Being really tired and having a headache will do that too you.
I think that is why those of us who have been abused sometimes or oftentimes have a hardtime letting it go. In remembering what happened maybe in our subconscious mind we allow it to define who we are. I am bad. I am weak. I am small. I cannot trust or trust my own decisions. I am dirty. I hate myself. I am not worth protecting. I am not worthy of healthy love. All because we have defined ourselves by the abuse.
Anyway, the bands of Tropical Storm Andrea keep passing through our area. So it is raining pretty steadily. Fluctuations in the barametric pressure trigger my migraines, so needless to say I am ready for her to move on through.
Earlier this morning I turned on my Ipad and caught up on this season of the Bachlorette. Yes, one of my guilty pleasures. Funny thing is after watching the first two episodes, I just had to read Reality Steve’s Spoilers and see who she picked. I am a nut that way. I also read up on next week’s episode. It sounds like it is going to be a riot.
My husband will be happy to eat more than cereal for dinner tonight. He has been a great support and sport about it. The last several days I just have not had it in me to cook. He’s been eating cereal and I have eaten pears, mayo, and cheese. My Grandmother used to make them all the time, and recently it has become one of my comfort foods. Anyway, today though not in me, the thawed chicken would not wait. Chicken and dumblings were on the menu, but crockpot BBQ sounded so much easier. I can smell it cooking now. Yummy!
I am going to jump back up to my beginning thought, my husband hates when I do that. I usually, okay for honestly sake, I never, preface it with directions where I am going so it can be confusing. So as I was saying, I actually had two epiphanies while typing all the hate talk. I do hate those parts about me, but something I am learning is how those thing connect me with a wonderful group of people across the globe that I would never have had the opportunity of meeting, learning, growing and healing with if I did not have these things. I never thought my circle of influence would expanded further than my immediate circle of family and friends, but through these thorns in my side has opened a new world to me that I might contribute and hopefully have a possitive influence, even if it is no more than to let someone know they are not alone in there trials and hey, she has been through something similiar.
I really do appreciate those that follow my blog and those that comment. It makes my day to see you there. I also enjoy reading yours and getting to know your stories. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of my world and letting me be apart of yours.