>I keep deleting what I am going to say. I took a free Enneogram thingy last night and I think I am number 4: “The Individualist” which could explain why I rarely write on here or share my true self with that many people:
The Individualist: The introspective, romantic type. Fours are self-aware, sensitive, and reserved. They are emotionally honest, creative, and personal, but can also be moody and self-conscious. Withholding themselves from others due to feeling vulnerable and defective, they can also feel disdainful and exempt from ordinary ways of living. They typically have problems with melancholy, self-indulgence, and self-pity. At their Best: inspired and highly creative, they are able to renew themselves and transform their experiences.
Who knows if anyone reads this. While I write, I simultaneously and desperately hope and fear that people will read this.
I am in Wausau, Wisconsin visiting my parents. In the last few days, old things have come in to haunt me. In many ways I am healthy, thanks be to the Only One who can turn Ugliness into Beauty. I praise my Savior for changing me, even though I highly doubt anyone in my life really notices. For the first time in 9 years, I am not on an antidepressant and have felt more emotionally and physically healthy than I can ever remember! (Although maybe not a lot of people realize it because I unfortunately tend to complain a lot…at least I am aware of it!)
Despite my freedom (overall) from depression, things from my past still have their wretched claws gripping my heart. It seems everywhere I look I hear and see babies, engagement rings, people kissing, and white dresses. Is that ever going to be me? I feel like a few different people because while I have no desire to date and could not imagine having a couple of kids and being forced to cook and clean for a man…I am aching to at least HAVE THE OPTION of doing those things. And I don’t. At least at the age I am now…because if any of that happens I know in my heart it won’t be for at least 5 years. What’s wrong with that you might ask. Most of the time, I encourage myself with that very thought: “It’s not too late.” and “It WILL happen for you. It just may be ten years later than you’ve always dreamed.” But then some weird thing inside me says, “Look at how you have failed. It won’t happen.” Then my combating answer, “You’re right-it won’t if I keep repeating history. But with God’s hand, there will be a miracle. I will learn how to love.” (Because that’s what I think the problem is with me and men. Granted I know, I am not totally to blame in my failed relationships but there’s one common denominator in all of them: me. And for some reason I can’t love a guy because of all my negative thoughts toward him and it needs to change!)
I feel like I am going in circles. Today in my personal journal I was reflecting on how I don’t want to open my past because it’s too painful, but yet I NEED to in order to figure out what my problem is…because it will just come out and continue to haunt me if/when I decide to date again (it already does and I’m not even dating).
I felt like I was getting closer to being free of this lie that my self-worth is dependent on my marital status. Overall, I am. But the last few week old memories have fluttered in (being in my hometown does not always help) and I’ve been feeling angry at myself for not being “over this” and content with who I am. But does being content mean stuffing the crap in your closet? In comparison to what others in my life are dealing with and the disaster in Japan, why would anyone freaking care about my problems?
If you don’t see this posted, it’s because I deleted it. I am “withholding [myself] from others due to feeling vulnerable and defective” but hopefully one day I won’t be this way.