I have had a rough morning emotionally. Light bulb moments aren’t always soft and gentle things. Sometimes those moments can be so bright that the bulb bursts and I’m left to pull out and clean up the shards. Painful illumination.
This morning I was cleaning up the pieces, so to speak. This upteen years long detour I finally recognize myself being on is my fault. I suffer from depression because I have chosen not to get help for it. That’s it. I am not where I want to be in life because I did not do what I needed in order to be where I want. It is very easy, comforting even, to use events and other people as this reason or that reason. But everything points back to me. No matter the reason, the answer will always be me. I am the first cause.
Accountability. It’s a big word because it carries a lot of weight. I didn’t want to carry around all of that weight so I didn’t scrutinize much why I’m at this point in my life at any point in my life. For me, holding myself accountable does not mean carrying that crap around. If I had really done the self work I thought I was I would have learned taking accountability for my actions is the opposite of holding onto all of this baggage. When I am being fully accountable, I look at the things I do that don’t work and have never worked for me, dig deep to find out why I keep recycling bullshit, and let it go.
So first things first: I have a counselor I need to find and set up an appointment with.