Chupacabra, is that you?

I am still left reeling with issues. After all this time. Treatment. Counseling. Still. I am reeling. I find myself at delicate odds with myself. Who I am. Who I have become. If I can improve. What to improve on. This is just the tip of the iceberg. This has left me as breathless as running wildly in the woods.

My name is Paula and I am an emotional hoarder. Shocking huh? Well go ahead, bring on the judgement. I hoard bad feelings, bad mojo, hurt, clothes from a period of my life that is no more, I hoard things with no purpose, I hoard letters, emails, so on and so forth. I hoard it. I hang on to this emotional baggage that poses real threat in order for me not to move on. Shitty Paula. Real shitty. Stop it. I did get rid of some things over the weekend that serve me no longer. Get real. You know what I'm talking about. Mr. Holding on to this thing from high school cause it made me feel manly and shit. Er, or whatever your little dirty secret is. I got rid of phone numbers that could get in the way of my future. Stumbling blocks. I just don't need them.

A.K.A. : I might need this crew neck white long sleeved t-shirt. I might, cause they may not make another one. Thank you Sue for listening to that trite realization. Improvement is on the way. Not like a knight in shining armour kind of way but a hold fast, help is on the way kind of thing. Here I am in my hope like state of mind and constantly reminding myself not to let that part of myself go.

These journeys we all seem to be on are confusing horrible nightmares or maybe it's what we make of it. Always having the power to wake up form the nightmare, that seems to be the tricky, intoxicating part of life. Why holding on to what could have been, or what it is but it could be better. Nope. Nope. Nope.

This is a icy patch. I find myself being only relateable to one person in this world at a time. This is a problem. This is a self created handicap. My bad G. I mean, just because you get out of jail it does continue to influence you. Which it should. Live and learn. Letting go though is quite a bit tougher.

My adult life has been quite a bit different than my life as a child. Things were happening to me then that I could not be accountable for. Ever. When I turned into an adult, that's when everything changed. I have been in circumstances I could have, and did not get out of. Not talking about divorce trauma, I'm talking about earlier in adult life bullshit. Like I didn't have to stay with Ed for 7 years when in fact I could have just let go. Was that empty feeling a good thing that I wanted to hold on to? No. Ed didn't do me any justice, and I didn't do any justice by him by holding on. He wasn't willing, so why was I such an eager beaver? Who really knows?

30 is a treasure for me. Most women I know see 30 as a death sentence and it makes me wanna vomit in their diaper bags. 30 has taught me a great bit. To love myself. To realize that what others paint of their lives, they can believe the facade they live in, or face facts. Like that they have made choices to be in the places that they are presently in now.

Here's post divorce shit.

Do you know how much I LOVE living in the same place I lived with my ex-husband? That I sleep in the room that he told me he was leaving me in?

Am I dead? No.

Would it be easy to go live with B and pack my dogs up and throw the pie save on the accord and set up shop in Knoxville? Yeah, it would be easy. B would like that. But I don't want that. I really don't need to be saved from myself. I need my own dryer to sit on and paint my toenails. This is why it wouldn't be a good solution for me, and this is also where I point out I am making good, conscience decisions about my life. Taking steps of maturity that I see by example via facebook, ex-book, myselfish sites that make me vomity in my mouth.

Psst. Pass it on.

The only being that can save me is my Lord and Sovereign Savior, Jesus Christ.

The next time others want me to have pity on the choices and graves they have been digging for themselves, I pray for self-restraint. To not judge or to be bitter toward them.

Just because the past has been so bad it doesn't ever mean it will determine your future.

The proof is in the pudding, and you should go ahead and take a bite.