I wanted to lie, you know, when I was asked the other day how I was doing. I was asked if I was ‘seeing someone’ to keep my body/mind distracted. Pssh. That’s cute, isn’t it? I wanted to lie when I was asked if it felt fair, this loss as punishment/consequence for my behaviour. I didn’t lie because I’m not going to give in to that wily cunt that lives deep inside me.
The lying bitch that kept trying to silence the truth when it whispered for years ‘you have a drinking problem’. The liar that shushed me so many times when I said that something felt off. Something’s wrong, Lana. Run, don’t walk. I let this voice dictate most of my life. She’s a part of me, I can’t get rid of her. But I allowed her to have her way with me, this I know. Most of my problems were minimized or dismissed. Most of my pain was diminished or laughed away. This liar is not just cruel, she is smart. She is ugly. But she can be oh-so-comforting. I now have to tell her to fuck off daily. I am doing it as I type this.
No, I’m not okay, and no I’m not fucking anybody AND NO, I DON’T THINK THAT THIS IS FUCKING FAIR. I’m empty, guys. I’m alone and I’m confused and I’m working too hard because it’s easier than sitting at home. I’m freaking out over changes in my body/mind/life because it’s easier than letting the real-er shit take over.
I’m not fucking okay, and that in itself is okay. I say this repeatedly. My mantra.
The past few days I’ve decided not to fight any of this. I’ve decided that even though I’m terrified of what’s coming, letting the liar take over is the more horrifying of my options. I have to give myself up to this process. It’s trying to teach me something, I can feel it. It’s saying more than ‘I hope you learned your lesson’. It’s trying to show me a part of myself I’ve been avoiding. The alone me. The lonely me.
I’ve done a lot of whining on this blog and I haven’t meant to, I’ve been experiencing intense conflict and loss and haven’t found an outlet for it. I think that the more time that passes the more insight I will gain, even some may come from the angry, needy girl who shares my brain space. I am trying to open myself a bit more to this part of the journey each morning. I do so without the help of him or anybody else. I sit with myself no matter how uncomfortable and even though I experience mostly deafening silence, I know this too is a lesson. I just don’t know what exactly I’m being taught yet.
I’m trying to get all of the women that live inside me to say the same thing until I can’t do a thing but listen to them. A few have quietly begun and the chorus gets louder every moment.
Surrender. Surrender. Surrender.