Rushing Past Me

When I was a child we moved to Boston, when I was about ten.  I often had a recurring dream about someone chasing me through a lumber yard in Los Angeles.  Although, I could not see the face, I somehow knew that it was me.  I had no idea at that age what the dream meant but on analysis later on with a professional I realized that I had left a huge part of me behind in California.

I often hear that children are resilient, I believe they are. I also know children, being human often retain the memories of childhood experiences that can haunt them through out the lifespan. Proof of this is the fact that it took until I was into my early twenties to stop pining for my early childhood playmates and play experiences in Califiornia.

I'm good now.

But, what I found recently is that I never stopped running from myself. And no matter, where I was raised, that dream probably wood have reared the ugly heads of many key issues that have peppersprayed my life since the day I was born.

Someone once told me that I was my own worst enemy.  I wanted to beat them up. Because on the surface, I knew that I was the best thing since Adam and Eve.  No way anyone would tear down my self -esteem, by informing me that I was sabotaging my own life. Unbeknownst to me, I didn't really know what self-esteem was and I know now that that was because I had never had any. So, they were right.

I am working now on not speeding past me.  I thought I was manic at one point because, I would run around with all this fabricated energy, try  to do a million things at once along with conquering the world. then I would crash soon after ( maybe a month or so down the line).  I couldn't find anyone  to confirm my mania for me.  (Which is probably a good thing, since labels are often used to keep people in certain categories, like so many different types of home canned goods).  Had I been diagnosed as bipolar, they would have wanted to put me on more medication that I was resistant to taking, I would have been labled non-compliant and blah, blah, blah...

In my opinion, society needs to be on psych meds. But how would you do that.?

This slowing down stuff is not fun.  When I speed past myself, I feel important.  Like I'm on top of the world that I am trying to save. Yesterday, when I was working, I felt exhilierated. I often feel like this when I work.  As work started to wind down, I started to feel sad, and depressed and worried.  So, much of my life has been other focused, that it is painful to focus on myself.

Sometimes, I get a business idea or a wriiting idear or something like that and want to rush into action.
I am starting now, to stop myself before I go out and buy 1000 yards of fabric to design curtains so that I can become a decorator...or a movie camera so that I can become a film producer.  and a million other projects that I've started and did not finish. Tthey were not feasible, because, they could not hold my attention long enough.  Or I thought that they took to much time to come fruition quickly enough. Or I wanted to numb some emotional pain that I was feeling. Or try to make my  life easier. Or...for whatever reason. 

It's difficult to slow down.  When that anxious part of me taps me on the shoulder, I am learning to say hey what do you want.  And if she doesn't have a legitimate concern, shut her off.   I refuse to live the rest of my life bouncing of the walls, bouncing off of myself, bouncing off of the world.  I can't be rationale, every second of the day, but a life of hysteria has been grueling...as if life isn't grueling enough.  I've developed enough courage to slow down and allow the vital parts of me to catch up so that we can get to know each other.

This is the mainstay of feeling complete.