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@keepingletters2theuniverse
People who Know, I think, are 3-year-olds.
Part of healing is the relentless pursuit of accepting yourself. You’re supposed to eventually love yourself as well, and I realize the power in that. Unfortunately, loving myself is too radical to gain sway in the current politics of my mind. Even just being comfortable with myself is too progressive a stance to win any popular vote. Current favored power: setting playdates up for my daughter.
She’s 3.5 and loves the idea of friends so much. Right now, everyone is “friend” to her, the other kids at the playground, or the elderly man parked next to us at the grocery store. At her last pediatric’s appointment her doctor engaged her in conversation, telling Juni that she loved her dress (the blue one, with ice cream cones, Juni’s favorite one at the time). Juni filed that conversation away- no help from me. She liked how it made her feel, maybe, to have something special she picked out noticed? Or she was inspired to be more confident in vocalizing what she likes about other people? No idea, but she remembers it, I know because her friend play date with a complete stranger yesterday started like this:
Juni ran into the playroom and directly hugged the other little girl. They’d never even said “hi” to each other before. The other girl accepted this welcome with barely any hesitation. Juni then told her, “you’re so cute!” and told her she likes her dress. They ran off and played for almost two hours like they had known each other their whole lives. Keep in mind intelligently speech is definitely there at this age, but it’s also a bit spotty- they didn’t always perfectly understand each other.
I am currently working on regaining confidence in building rapport and, hopefully, eventual relationships, with other adults. Undoing a life-time of self-esteem with crinkled wings has been…excruciating, honestly. I’m flexing muscles that I’m not entirely sure CAN operate normally, or even just slightly effectively. My anxiety makes me come across as fidgety and flighty (i think?)l Like I’m tying so hard to constantly get up off the ground, when I should just be settling on some breeze I can’t seem to feel.
But Juni learned to be loved by me, and she treats other people in a similar vein, apparently. She takes compliments so well, as if people are simply stating facts about her (which, I remind my social anxiety self, they ARE). “You have such beautiful hair!” “Thanks! Yes, momma combed it.” “I love your dress!” “Yes! It’s blue, my favorite color.” How revolutionary, to just accept compliments as facts… I’m in awe of this child, seriously. People who Know, I think, are 3-year-olds.
Maybe I’ll always struggle socially, but a lot can be relearned watching a toddler confidently navigate their new peer groups. Maybe what’s needed is for me to learn everything I can from a person who understands what it’s like to love people, to be curious about them, to want friendship, who hasn’t been hurt before- who loves herself in a way that enables her to make others feel seen and appreciated.
<3 always,
Nik.
Dear Universe,
I still get on this site, it’s where most of my productive journaling took place. I don’t even post anymore, I don’t write, I hardly scroll through- it’s like a muscle memory to log in every few months or so, I never fully exorcised the motions from my body. But I like it, so maybe I’ll even exercise this dormant habit a bit?
Being a parent, being chronically sleep deprived… being an anxious person with dwindling ties to anyone outside of my very close family circle, it’s made me desperate to try harder lately. Try harder to be vulnerable, to challenge the toxic mechanisms in my mind that keep me from maintaining friendships. My therapist recommended thanking those thought processes, those feelings too, for helping me navigate my childhood. It’s the moving on from them and having frank talks with the discomfort that I struggle with. And the accepting that my childhood needed navigating, that it was toxic.
But just having a five minute message conversation with my teenage sister puts my body back in that house. Triggers are real, and if they’re not it would just make me feel crazier.
It’s a strange place to be in, reading my journals as a person diagnosed with PTSD in my 30’s- having chronic symptoms since at least 16; my brain was teamed-up with all of the criticisms and verbal/emotional abusers in my life, I was literally the “bad guy.” But also the “victim.” How do you reconcile that?
Being a hurt person, you hurt people. And, I’m still working on forgiving my past self for that. But, being a hurt person knowing better now is so much harder. It’s like…now I have extra guilt, extra work, extra hopelessness.
Thank the universe for my brother who validated my experience, who made the gaslighting less effective. For my husband who has continued to show up my entire adult life, despite me canceling so many plans. And for my past relationships, who were honestly the best kind of people. I grew because I knew beauty existed in other souls, I knew my dark and self-hating mind was not all there was in the world. I’m so thankful for everything outside of me that gave me glimmers.
I hope this site can help me heal, like it did before. I’m not as lonely now as I was at 19, but I have work to do that requires reflection.
Love always,
Nik.
Life changes, but only so much as to keep us paying attention.
My flesh, my home 🦪 🫧
🤎🤍🩷
I'm basically into girls
Dear Universe,
.
day #3
I’m only just beginning to have some mental hurdles with waking up at 4:50AM to swim. It hasn’t been the full five days this week yet.
Mantra: I am in the land of rugged mermaids now.
Dear Universe,
It’s with clear lungs, singing skin, and soaring veins that I realize the actual gravity of my mental health. You gave me solace, and I do revel in it! But I also found the chaos here too, bubbling along the edges and into the ink. How to stopper it, or neutralize it, or separate it out somehow?
<3 always,
Nik.
Dear Universe,
Finally have a device I can type with again! Only been five years...hoping this new development, coupled with living in a place that inspires me, will lead to more writing.
It’s been too long since I’ve woken up with exciting possibilities. I don’t even mean job prospects, or even realizing huge life goals...I just mean simple, beautiful, tiny possibilities; I can drink a cup of coffee by the ocean any day, any time- I can journal in a wooded knoll-- I can hike a mountain...or just don Juni’s pack and walk a modest trail--- I can chase loon songs----I can find field journals at the library and read beautiful reallities-----I can see my husband for more than an hour or so each day------I can show my daughter all of the places that imprinted reasons to live inside of my heart.
I could actually live here. I can’t thank the people who made it possible, I could never thank them enough. I just hope the words come back to me, I turned them away so many times.
<3 always,
Nik
Do you ever get book-blocked by life. Like yes you want to read this awesome book but you have to get the grocery shopping done and you had to stay late at work and there’s chores to do and you never get the chance to sit down and read that day.