Escaping the Cycle

As I work to come into my own for the future, I have been forced to build from the past. But thus far I’ve only looked at the recent past – my recent mistakes, shortcomings, and insecurities. I need to go farther back than that – to why I might be the way I am. Because then I will have a better idea of how to move forward and build my life around strength, confidence, happiness, and integrity.

I am, in no way, disappointed with how I was raised. My parents were wonderful: they gave me everything I could ever need and want, opened my heart and mind to new experiences, and made sure I knew how to take the high road and choose integrity over what was easy or convenient. There are so many things about my mother and my father that I want to emulate, like my mother’s bottomless cup of kindness and empathy and my father’s ability to take on adversity like a knight defeating a dragon. But there are other things I saw in my parents, especially my mom, that I vowed I would never become.

I watched my mom take bad news with tears, watched her take great joy with tears, and watched her cry in desperation, sometimes being set off for days at a time. When I was younger I vowed not to let myself cry at such seemingly insignificant worries, problems that clearly had some sort of a solution, or sappy movies. I kept this vow for a long time, but as I’ve gotten older the tears come in frustration, fear, worry, anxiety, great joy and yes, sappy movies. I let worries carry me away when I am alone and unoccupied. And even, sometimes, when I am occupied. Sometimes worries follow me to times that should be happy and healing, and they shadow the good time I should be having and the relationships I should be building with the people I am with. And sometimes those people see my melancholy as a detriment to our relationship, which makes me fall deeper into worry. It is a vicious cycle, and even though I have watched my mother go through it again and again, I have fallen into the trap myself.

I’ve gotten a lot better with therapy. But now that my life seems to be changing possibly more quickly than I can plan for, worries and anxieties are overshadowing more and more experiences that should raise me up. Knowing that I am floundering is the first step. The next step is to see possibly solutions and work toward them. I wish I could live in a vacuum and shy off everyone else’s opinions of me (or what I worry is everyone else’s opinion of me), but the time I spent being raised by my mother sets me back from the start. Realistically, I will always have worries, I will sometimes be sad, sometimes melancholy, and sometimes cry at sappy movies. It is the recognition of these times and the ability to pull myself out of them that I have been and will continue to work on. And most importantly, I need support and patience of those around me – and faith that I can and will turn around. Because I have come pretty far already, and can see no reason I should ever back down now.