Dead Diana

Wonder Woman isn't real.

When I was younger, my siblings and I would tease one sister incessantly because of her gullibility. She would beg us to "be real" so she could identify what the truth was in our tricks. I feel a little bad about it now, to be honest. But what are older siblings and parents for if not to give people a reason for therapy, yes?

Anywho...

I'm having my own "be real" moments lately. I got very sick again, but this time it didn't take a few months of build-up. This time it took two weeks. Two whole weeks back at work and I was home-ridden for five days. This gave me quite a wake-up call.

Wonder Woman must die. Time to be human.

Except, I don't like to be human. I'm not very good at it. I only know how to kill myself for other people. That's the only space I feel like I'm worth existing in. I still struggle to live for myself.

I've been making gobs of progress in self-care. The Miami trip taught me so much, and I've held onto a lot of it. But not enough of it.

Once again, I'm realizing that when I'm buried 10 miles deep, clawing my way up 8 miles still leaves a lot of progress to make before I reach the mountain top.

This week, I've realized how messed up I still am. I'm not saying it in a self-deprecating or hopeless way, just in a realization way.

One of the shows I binge-watched while I was sick was Hoarders. That show used to make me feel better about myself because at least I wasn't "that bad." This week, I felt like I could relate to them way too easily. I understood each person's emotional distress, anxiety, and the comfort they felt being buried so deeply in overwhelming chaos. It's a type of security to blanket to hide behind chaos. It's distracting enough to provide the excuses for why the imperfections exist.

If I'm too busy, it's okay if I don't accomplish all the things perfectly, because no one could be expected to perform excellently with all the things all the time. If I'm balanced and calm and have enough time, then if something isn't perfect, it's my own fault. I can't blame it on anything else.

More victim mentality.

At least, hopefully, the denial is falling away.

If I think I have a million dollars in the bank account, but I only have five, how do I figure out how to recognize I only have five dollars? How do I stop taking out credit thinking I'll get to pay it back later with interest when I've been shown over and over it doesn't happen?

There are so many conflicting ideas about service and sacrifice and what I should or shouldn't be. I don't know how to trust my own perspective, but the perspectives I'm supposed to be able to trust don't speak what I need right now. Sacrifice and serve, sacrifice and serve. Forget yourself and go to work. Be like the Savior, who gave his life for others. I'm literally making myself ill, killing myself, trying to do the "right" things. That's not what it means. That's not what He wants for me. But where do I find the messages that tell me what he wants? 

Men are that they might have joy. 

How? 

Sacrifice and Serve?

Die?

At the end of my marriage, I told Heavenly Father that, even if this is what He wanted for me, I couldn't do it anymore. I made my own decision. That's when He could finally reach me again. Maybe it's time for the same thing, now. I don't want to kill myself for people anymore. I want to live for me. I want to connect to people and the world and myself in the ways that make me happy. The ways that bring me joy. 

I don't want to kill myself for other people anymore.

Wonder Woman must die so I can live like a human being.

So I can have joy.

I just need to figure out how to kill her.