Lately, there's been a lot of things running around inside my head. Admittedly, I've been trying incredibly hard to distract myself. Even my distractions end up making my brain ask questions of itself.
There are so many things about my brain that cause me grief. I'm easily distracted. I end up dissociating at random times. I'm chronically depressed for sometimes no discernable reason. I cuss like a sailor and I can't control it very much. I am deeply emotional and am affected by everything, good and bad, in a profound way that shakes me to the core. Because of this, I don't express my emotions as I fear they will upset people and/or be seen as an overreaction. I'm stubborn for some of the dumbest reasons. I'm obtuse, sometimes intentionally but for the most part, it's just instinct. I'm impulsive by nature and have done some real boneheaded things because of it. I use humor as a deflection mechanism and it sometimes really pisses people off. Often, I feel like an alien observer of a species that don't understand.
But, I wouldn't change my brain for anything. All of the things "wrong" with me directly corrispond with things that are good. I'm funny and that resonates with people. I'm warm and genuine. I'm loyal in all my relationships and can maintain friendships over time and distance. I have a spiritual connection with all things and a childlike fascination with with existence itself. Feeling things at a soul level is painful but at the same time I feel honored by the universe because I'm capable of feeling that deeply. I can't expect to only feel good things but knowing such goodness exists makes the suffering bearable.
I'm not saying all things are predestined. Sometimes shit sucks for absolutely no reason other than entropy and the randomness of the cosmic dice roll. I believe though, that profound and true good can't exist without the opposite being true.
I have an incredibly hard time accepting the goodness within myself. Even though I'm supported a lot by my friends and family and the universe shouts evidence from the rooftops, I still am trapped by the feeling that I am craptacular. I've done stupid stupid stupid shit. I've been that bitch in situations where I could have been better. I'm a flawed human. I suppose what tells me I'm on the right path at least somewhat is the fact that I'm always trying to be better than myself. That I absolutely don't want to harm anyone intentionally or unintentionally.
I'm constantly evolving and changing. Adaptability is one of my strengths. At the same time, I have to accept that I am good at my core and that I didn't just magically emerge one day as an OK person. There's a reason why I've maintained friendships since high school. It is hard as fuck accepting this and I'm not sure why.
Even saying that I have a problem accepting the good in me makes me feel bad. Like my struggles are somehow meaningless because I don't suffer all the time. That part of my depression is dealing with how to feel good about myself and that makes me some kind of asshole. That accepting the annoying and bullshit parts of my personality and realizing the good parts are inexplicably linked is somehow trashing on everyone who struggles with mental health. That not actively seeking to "cure" myself is somehow wrong.
So many things have told me that my existence is meaningless and that my perception of reality is flawed. Sometimes I don't know what to believe. At the same time, I've seen the divine nature of the whole of existence. I've touched the very soul of the creator. I'm just one observer with a meat brain and limited sensory perception so who knows how right I really am? It isn't about being right, though.
I'm blessed to exist but at the same time I'm drowning in reality. I don't think anyone knows what that exactly means.
