No more whining. I'm broken and fragile, and my life isn't what I wanted it to be at this age. All of this I had to get out in the open, see written down and no longer deniable. It was painful, and, yes, it's a little difficult to let go of that pain. It becomes . . . familiar and seemingly safer than than trying again.
But, I doubt more can be said. I either try to change my life, or I sit and wallow in my misery even longer. I have Pills. I have a therapist willing to challenge me. I'm actually living on my own and surviving at a job. I have family and friends that are as supportive as they have ever been. I've even managed to find a few, new online friends that are supportive and kind and funny (yes, I mean you, my dear voyeurs and voyeurettes). If this isn't the only kind of "new start" anyone in my position is likely to get, I don't know what is.
So, I'm going to try. No more re-hashing the past. No more complaining about how I'm too afraid. I'll continue, sometimes, to be too afraid, but . . . I'll fight it as best I can rather than revel in my pain as if I can do nothing about it.
I'm damn lucky, really. "High functioning," is better than "minimally functional." I'm smart enough and talented enough to actually succeed at some things, regardless of whether or not they're more difficult for me than for "normals." So, what the hell am I waiting for?
Oh, and special thanks to Maxx, who liked my humor about "bum" vs. "ass" enough to change his profile. Oh, yeah, and for being at the head of the pack to try to DO something, rather than sit there on my . . . bum. ;)
Peace, little ones. I'll write more, later, but it's a different issue altogether.