(no subject)
I went to a wedding recently where I knew almost nobody other than my boyfriend's immediate family.
And for the first time, maybe in my life, I decided to let myself go.
I danced all night. Sober.
I just decided that dancing was a lot more fun than sitting around looking at people who dared to dance.
And that all it required was to move and not give a shit.
Sure its awkward at first but eventually your body starts moving almost by itself and even if you end up looking like Napoleon Dynamite out there, who gives a shit because its fun as hell.
I've spent most of my life waiting for things to become perfect.
I have memories of sitting up late in elementary school crying because I knew my homework wasn't perfect.
Perfection is something that I spent a long time expecting from myself and from others.
This, as you can probably guess, has led to much disapointment.
And I remain to this day utterly bad at letting go.
The death of my father has been hard to accept.
Its hard to accept that I will never see him again.
This is probably the most painful thing I've ever experienced.
I want so badly to go back to that place where death was something that happened to other people. That place was blissfully ignorant. But for me, that place no longer exists.
Most of us will experience grief in our lifetime. Not to say that it isn't painful or hard because it is. Just that its a fact of life.
I'm having trouble accepting that the people I love will someday die.
That it can happen to anyone, anywhere, at any time.
I don't accept that someday even my dog will die.
That one day I will die.
I am terrified at the thought that one day I will die.
And this is mostly because I am terrified to letting myself live.
I keep myself so tightly controlled because I'm constantly worried that something unpleasant will happen if I don't.
So I sit and wait and calculate every move. For perfection. I wait for that "if only I had this, was that, did this" that would finally mean I could be happy. And I worry. I constantly worry.
This is because perfection doesn't exist.
My parents were married for a long time. Their marriage was not perfect, they were not perfect people. But in the end they loved each other. In the end, I'm pretty sure that my father was happy.
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Mostly I just wanted to remind myself that its okay.
And that maybe I can practice letting go one bad dance move at a time.
And for the first time, maybe in my life, I decided to let myself go.
I danced all night. Sober.
I just decided that dancing was a lot more fun than sitting around looking at people who dared to dance.
And that all it required was to move and not give a shit.
Sure its awkward at first but eventually your body starts moving almost by itself and even if you end up looking like Napoleon Dynamite out there, who gives a shit because its fun as hell.
I've spent most of my life waiting for things to become perfect.
I have memories of sitting up late in elementary school crying because I knew my homework wasn't perfect.
Perfection is something that I spent a long time expecting from myself and from others.
This, as you can probably guess, has led to much disapointment.
And I remain to this day utterly bad at letting go.
The death of my father has been hard to accept.
Its hard to accept that I will never see him again.
This is probably the most painful thing I've ever experienced.
I want so badly to go back to that place where death was something that happened to other people. That place was blissfully ignorant. But for me, that place no longer exists.
Most of us will experience grief in our lifetime. Not to say that it isn't painful or hard because it is. Just that its a fact of life.
I'm having trouble accepting that the people I love will someday die.
That it can happen to anyone, anywhere, at any time.
I don't accept that someday even my dog will die.
That one day I will die.
I am terrified at the thought that one day I will die.
And this is mostly because I am terrified to letting myself live.
I keep myself so tightly controlled because I'm constantly worried that something unpleasant will happen if I don't.
So I sit and wait and calculate every move. For perfection. I wait for that "if only I had this, was that, did this" that would finally mean I could be happy. And I worry. I constantly worry.
This is because perfection doesn't exist.
My parents were married for a long time. Their marriage was not perfect, they were not perfect people. But in the end they loved each other. In the end, I'm pretty sure that my father was happy.
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Mostly I just wanted to remind myself that its okay.
And that maybe I can practice letting go one bad dance move at a time.