I accept the fact that I am defective – damaged. I accept that within myself. I have for a very long time. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. It is so easy for me to pick out the negative aspects of who I am. I have this very jaded thought process. I over analyze everything imaginable and lets not begin to talk about the paranoia that shows up just as my mania begins.
I mentally degrade myself. Call myself names. Stupid. Fat. Crazy. Ugly. Bitch.
I always feel like I am not worth fighting for. That I am nothing but a burden on those around me. I tend to make that decision for them, instead of letting them form their own ideas of who I am or whether I am worth it.
I am an insignificant speck of a being that is defective in every way. But unlike a defective item you purchased at your local store and returned for a refund, there are no returns on people, no refunds. My Jaded mind tells me that even if I could be returned, no refund would be given, after all; I am worthless.
Nor can I turn back the hands of time and re-do things to change past mistakes into rewarding and enriching experiences. I do often wonder what would happen if I were able to turn back those hands, dialing time back and having a do over. How far back would be far enough to make a change?
Do I go back a few days to when I freaked out while drinking and change it? Maybe I should go back a few weeks try to head off the mania before it began. A few months…..oh yeah I could make a change there I wouldn’t have went so long between therapy sessions. A few years, oh the changes I would make there. I cannot even begin to explain.
Where would I want to start over?
My mind was screaming while I was writing that last sentence, a ton of mental and emotional pain running through my body, almost to the point of physical pain. My mind is screaming for me to go back to when I was 6 and scream bloody hell for someone to help me.
But then the other side of my jaded analytical mind begins to wonder. If I could change the past would I still be me when I got here? Or would I be a completely different person then I am now? Would this outcome that I have had in life still be the same? Would I be stronger? Maybe I will be weaker. Maybe I would be even more insignificant than I am now.
Then a strange question creeps in and stops me mid thought. Would I want to change who I am today? Part of me is screaming YES. Because maybe it would make me a better person. Maybe I would not have mental health issues if my past were not clouded with so much pain and hurt. Maybe I would have been able to make better choices.
How would changing my past define me as a person?
But I realize that if I would lose the things in my life that I love and cherish the most – my husband – my kids – then no I would not change my path. I would take the path all over again just to make sure that these very special people were a part of my life.
I realize that I have had rough times. I also understand that these experiences have played a big part in shaping who I am today. Some of these things I might not like so well, but there are things that I can live with. Maybe these experiences are what makes me write, maybe they are some of my driving force.
But still I cannot help but wonder:
would i still be….
defective – damaged – broken