Breaking the cycle

I wrote a post not so long about the people we meet, the people who give us hope.  The people that we meet them and instantly we feel like every day is filled with something better.

But then there are those those people who take away all of our hope.  The people that say one word, and instantly our hearts are on the ground, and everything within us deflates.

These people become such important fixtures in our lives.  They stick around for as long as we allow them, we obsess over their every action and every word they speak to us.  We want so badly for them to be the people that give us hope, but each time, they let us down.

We fixate on these people so much that in our minds, they become these grandiose characters. We feel like they are part of our lives, but when you sit down and dissect all the little things that make you who you are, they are just people who wandered into the picture. Their thoughts of us are just thoughts, they are not a part of us.

How do we get rid of them?  People that we want so badly to fill our hearts with something beautiful, with everything that makes us feel content.

They are not the people that we need.  Say it out loud.  It hurts.  It hurts to say that this enigma cannot be part of my life anymore.  But that is what it is.



It’s relieving to start a year feeling like you can start to improve yourself, rather than pick up the pieces.

To those out there still trying to pick up the pieces: don’t waste your new year trying to put things back together. Sometimes it’s just better to live in the messy chaos.

I’ll take you 

Today was one of those days when I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  Or maybe I made the mistake of checking my work email shortly after I got up.  That was probably it.

Things didn’t really improve as the day went on either.  I felt discouraged, grumpy, and annoyed.  It’s that feeling that washes over you when someone tells you you don’t deserve something.  Where you go “who on earth have you the privilege to plan my life”.  That feeling.

Even the people I typically turn to on these kind of days were negative.  Or normal, the negative part was probably in my head. 

Now that all of the pretty details are out of the way I can get to the fun stuff.  

I found hope.  I found hope in something so small and insignificant, but it was there and it was mine.  For a few hours I felt like maybe things weren’t so bad, and that maybe one day I’ll actually love a living thing more than my cat (ok she’s perfect, almost as much as her).  

You may think it’s gone, but when you truly need it, you’ll find it searching for you.