Lucy March's Blog, page 5

3: Rejected

No, this post isn't about writing.

This morning, while looking for a topic for today's post, I traipsed over the one I wrote on Rejecting the Premise:

I've failed to reject the premise of that mindset, that I always have to give more, that I always have to be stronger, that I always have to succeed at everything, or I haven't earned what I have… But finally, tonight, I saw it. I saw that my problems, my failures, stemmed not from my actions, but from my belief system. And even though I've hacked away a little at that belief system here, I haven't truly changed it in my head. The things I say to myself every day are worse than anything anyone has ever said to me in my life, and when there's even the slightest hint – real or imaginary – of a similar judgment coming from anyone else, I jump on it as some kind of confirmation that deep down inside, I'm right about my lack of value.

It's just crazy how much I've forgotten about what it was like to be me, even just a year ago. Wow.

This idea of rejecting the premise, of taking a good hard look at what you say to yourself and really deciding not to allow anyone to talk to you that way, least of all yourself, is really important, and yet it's one of the ideas I haven't revisited a whole lot. There is the Magaera thing, and this is related, except it's about more than just Magaera, it's about what you really believe. If you really believe something, you will find the evidence to support it, which just firms it up in your head. It has absolutely no relationship with fact or truth, which is why it's problematic.

When I was in college, I did a documentary on pyschic phenomena, and ended up interviewing my mother for a segment because she'd spent a lot of time exploring New Agey spiritual stuff like channeling, past lives and the Tarot. There was something she said back then that always stuck with me, and which I still remember often to this day. "It's like the bible says, seek and ye shall find. If you're looking for a particular answer, you'll find it, whether it's true or not."

This is obviously true; we see it all the time. Huge political divides, with everyone sure they are right, because the evidence they choose to consider is the evidence that supports their viewpoint. Fundamentalist Christians who believe the earth is 6000 years old, or that the rapture is going to happen at sunset. Atheists who believe that if they can't see it, poke it, test it and prove it, it doesn't exist.

And then there are the people like me. The ones who, at some very young age, were made to understand that they were somehow less than everyone else, that they had to do more, be better, just to be almost as acceptable, forget lovable. I started being funny because I believed the only reason anyone would ever want to be my friend was because I amused them; I had to play the court jester to earn my place. I never believed this of anyone else, just myself, and I never questioned it because that belief had been ingrained at such a young age.

Then, last year, I saw it clearly for the first time, and I finally rejected that premise. First, intellectually, but then emotionally, and at some point during the last year when I was distracted by drama and kids and books and my lovely Scotsman, it just went away.

So today, look at your beliefs. Question them. Reject any premises which hold you to a different standard from what you hold everyone else to. Reject any premises that tell you you're unworthy, not good enough, too old, too fat, too stubborn, too set in your ways. Reject any premises that sound like someone else – your dad, your mom, your ex – saying horrible things to you because keeping you in line means life is easier for them.

Betties, you are fabulous, you deserve every great thing the world has to offer, and you don't have to be twice as good just to be half as acceptable. You are lovable, just as you are, and there is nothing wrong with you. Embrace that premise, and reject the rest.

Trust me. It'll be among the best things you'll ever do.

4: The Bad Days

When I was trying to come up with something to write about for today, I asked Alastair what he thought I should write about. He took a moment, then smiled.

"Bad days," he said.

"Bad days? Like… what do you mean?"

He walked over to me and put his hand on my knee. "Just that you've come to far to the end of this thing, and even though you're happy and things have calmed down and life is good, there are still bad days. It's just that now you know that you're worthy of love, and everything's going to be okay." Then he laughed and said, "I don't know, I got nothin'," and kissed me and went back to work.

But really, I think he might be on to something.

There have been a lot of bad days on this blog. Days when I cried, curled up in the fetal position, laid down in the middle of the road and could. not. move. Days when I wasn't eloquent, or funny, or even entirely likeable. Days when I felt like everything was such a mess it was never going to get better.

Then, much to the surprise of my negativity, it did. Life stabilized, wounds healed, the world kept turning and eventually, I got back up. And now, for the first time in a long time, I can't remember the last time I cried. Oh, no, I can. A week or so ago when I was holding Lyle, but that's because he's beautiful and he's dying and that sucks. The last time I cried because life was too much, too sad, too hard for me? I don't know.

And, as Alastair said, there are still bad days. I got completely overwhelmed a few weeks ago and had to drop a few things – the Storywonk Podcast, Popcorn Dialogues, anything that wasn't work, the book, or family. But nowhere during that time did I feel hopeless, or like my life was going to split open under my feet and swallow me whole. Even in my worst moments – most of them when I was freaking out and Alastair had to calm me down – I have known that I would figure it out, it would be okay.

So the difference now isn't so much that I don't have bad days anymore – although I will say, they're not bad the way they were, the high drama seems to have passed, which is lovely – it's that they don't have me as much as they used to. Their claws have been trimmed and filed, and when they grip me, they can't keep hold of me for too long. I'm much more slippery than I used to be, I guess.

And I think that's what happens with these things. Crumbling towers, massive changes, complete failure… with time, if you just hold on, it gets better. Things calm down. Life improves. The days when I want to sit down in the middle of the road and just lie there because I can't take another step, those are fewer and farther between now, to the point where I can't even remember the last one, after such a long time in which, typically, the last one was yesterday or the day before. Now it's been a stretch of weeks, months. The bad days just aren't as bad, and I don't react as badly to them as I used to.

Gotta admit. Feels kinda great.