Girl, Corrupted

I've had a really tough month, so I am incredibly grateful that April is just a couple hours away. Not that flipping a page in my calendar is going to solve everything, but I'm hoping I will get some inspiration from my upcoming vacation.

My last session with Dr. Gray left me feeling deflated and defeated. I think it's safe to say that I've made a lot of progress in the last year. The problem is that I keep hitting this cement wall every few months and there just doesn't seem to be some tangible way to push past it.

I love to dance. I danced for 11 years, and even now, over a decade after I've left it behind, I still can't find a high that compares to dancing. I've been taking a hip-hop class once a week for the past few months, and for that hour every week I leave feeling like I can take on the world. Yet somehow, there is still that resonating voice that tells me I don't deserve to feel good and like dance. I don't deserve other pleasures because I'm not good enough. And I'm not good enough because I'm not thin enough.

See, the problem is that I'm fighting a voice that is almost as old as I am. A voice that has a lot of back story on me. A voice that knows every weakness and guilt and sorrow I've ever felt. And most of all, a voice that is vengeful and vindictive. Of what, I don't know.

I know that I don't want to stop fighting that voice. And I know that I need to convince myself that I do deserve to have a hobby that is fulfilling, relationships where I feel loved, and a career that is rewarding. I want to be able to hold on to what I have right now, even if it's not what I want to be right now. I'm tired of holding my breath and waiting for my life to be different.

This is probably the point where I should make some self-proclamation and declare that I'm going to take a course action. But I'm not, because I don't know what that looks or feels or acts like. What I do know is that I'm not ready to quit fighting. I know it's going to be sad and angry and probably lonely, but I can't keep falling down because of a shame I don't deserve to feel.

Time to tell me the truth
To burden your mouth for what you say
No pieces of paper in the way'
Cause I can't continue pretending to choose
The opposite sides on which we fall
The loving you laters, if at all
No right minds could wrong be this many times

My memory is cruel
I'm queen of attention-to-details
Defending intentions if he fails
Until now, he told me her name
It sounded familiar in a way
I could have sworn I'd heard him
Say it ten thousand times
If only I had been listening