A lot of what I write about comes from a desire to understand myself better. Without blaming my past for my present, there’s still a fair amount of “dealing with” that I need to go through in order to understand why certain things are just that much more difficult for me. Every time I do have a “breakthrough”, even though rationally I know it’s not the magical cure to my issues, I still feel disheartened when I realise I have not changed too drastically.
I was reading Cracked recently(so named, I believe, for the addictive tabbing I do!) and this quote really stood out to me.
Simply put, psychology is not a game of Jenga, wherein one crucial block can bring down the entire tower of mental illness. No one factor made the person snap, and shoving one thing back into place won’t make them whole. If it did, this mental illness stuff would be easy.
In the real world people with severe personality disorders are about as predictable as the weather, and so far the fact that we all know what causes lightning hasn’t helped us figure out when and where it’s going to strike with any kind of certainty.
What it made me realise is that I expect too much from my ability to overcome issues. I don’t take great joy of the simple fact I have had progression, a step away from letting those issues control my life. I just focus on the fact it hasn’t cured me.
The main thing I’ve been thinking about is learning the idea of me isn’t ever going to be me. I am a constantly changing entity, and the Nicki of last year isn’t me now, just as the Nicki I will be in 5 years isn’t me now. Hell, even writing this will change me into a new version of Nicki. I need to stop trying to change myself and let myself grow organically. When I get to the point where I truly understand why I do what I do, I won’t stop changing. I can’t. I will always evolve and grow and change. I need to stop idealising who I think I should be, and remember to take each day as it comes. I’m not always a sad bunny, so I have to slow down and enjoy the person I am right now, instead of just paying attention when I’m in a cream puff.
Today, Nicki is 27, chubbier than she wants to be, slightly sweaty (it’s too warm!) and sitting in a messy flat. She’s not unhappy. She’s in love. She’s about to go tidy up said messy flat, and later will be going to see Captain America with a few friends (she’s very excited.)
I wonder who I’ll be tomorrow.