Two Years

Today is the birthday for my online journal. It feels like two years. A lot of people seem to feel like two years just whizzed by easily, but this last year for me was long. Life-wise, it didn�t feel as long, but journal-wise, it did.

For some reason, I felt more exposed and less willing to risk. The peacemaker in me took over, and I refrained from saying anything offensive. I think the journal became more bland in the past year because of that, not that I was hurling controversy the year before. I was more open though. I talked about the things that bothered, irritated, hurt, and annoyed me without fear. I could talk about counseling, my marriage, family, everything. I�m back to being afraid of what people think of me, afraid I�ll be found out, afraid to be myself because I don�t feel very likable. I want to be liked.

At the same time, I�ve distanced myself in many relationships. I don�t answer emails. I don�t make phone calls. I don�t get involved in activities. It�s not just my journal that�s suffered; it�s me. The journal has only reflected that withdrawal. I�m unhappy, and I don�t know how to fix it. In fact, I haven�t really tried. I would rather burrow into myself, hibernate, disappear. I feel weak, unable to deal with simple life, incapable of it.

Fear surrounds my physical and mental state too. I don�t feel well very often. I get lots of headaches. I�m tired more than half the time. Sometimes I phase out, drifting without awareness. John sat with me all evening last night, because I didn�t seem myself. I wonder who I am to him. I also wonder by what the physical failings are caused. Do I have something physically wrong with me, or am I just going crazy? I worry about either answer. I don�t want to know, so I hide from that too, knowing how stupid it is.

I�ve come to think of myself as stupid and incapable, so my actions fit well with that view. It�s not that I feel sorry for myself either. I don�t expect anything from anyone. I don�t feel like I�ve been wronged. I�ve made bad decisions. I�m where I am because of me, which plays right into feeling even worse about myself. I got myself into this situation. Only an idiot could take a perfectly nice life and fuck it up the way I�ve done. And so on. I�ve very, very good at piling negatives. On myself anyway.

Rather than thinking of January 1st as the start of a new year, I�m going to think of this day as one and stop beating myself with the pity stick. This time of year does something for me. Two years ago, I started my online journal. A year ago, I accomplished a goal of doing an adventure race, if even it was a one-day thing. This year, I did run my first 5K last weekend. It wasn�t October 7th, but it was close, and last year's race wasn't on the 7th either. I�m tempted to look back further to see what else might have happened at this time other years, but I think that�s serving distraction rather than purpose. I already had a year full of thinking, and it�s gotten me nowhere. This will be a year of doing.

Hopefully in another year, I will be saying that it doesn�t seem like it�s been three years since I started my journal, because I will have been so busy that I didn�t realize the time passing. I hope to shed at least some of my fears. I hope to be more true to myself. I do know who I am. I think I�ve just been phasing out too much and lost touch with it. It�s still there. I�m still there, underneath all the mental and physical barriers. Let�s see if I can dig out the real me.