Memento Mori: January 2024
A new year has arrived and I’m committed to everything I haven’t succeeded in yet that’s of interest to me. Last month I said that I was going to be leaning into feeling more and I have to rephrase that… I don’t have a problem feeling anything. I’ve experienced issues with properly processing what I feel and then moving on. Suppression was my best efforts at NOT dealing with anything that caused me abnormal amounts of anxiety. Suppression was also useful for just ignoring anything that caused me discomfort. I learned early on that most people can’t tell the difference between suppression and genuinely not giving a fuck about anything. Because of that, using the veneer of assholery suited me well… until it didn’t.
A lot of my change was prompted by the choice to become a mother. I’m absolutely positive if I hadn’t chosen to be a parent, it probably would have taken a near death experience to move me away from the protective defense mechanism that inched far too close to sociopathy. Unfortunately life, not just my childhood, laid a pretty solid yellow brick road of mental dysfunction that made suppression acceptable. I wanted better for the kiddo so as difficult as it is to do and be different than what I was raised to be, I’ve been consistently doing it for the last 14 years.
When I say consistent I mean I haven’t given up on being the change I wish to see. Yes, IT IS easier to match people’s petty, disrespectful, inconsiderate, selfish, and nonchalant energy. That rush of dopamine I get when I know that I’ve gotten under someone’s skin that thought they got the better of me? If I could shoot it directly into my veins, I just might give up on this 14-year consistency. HOWEVER, the high doesn’t last and it’s so short-lived that I’m quickly reminded that in order to maintain it, I’d become someone I’d never want my daughter to emulate. Welcome to the brain of an addict. I still want a lot of things that are FUCKING TERRIBLE for me… but in my remembering that eventually we all die, I know I’m not ready… yet.
So, about January… in my efforts to keep working on being a better human, I’m going to start some new holiday traditions with the kiddo. We aren’t close to our families; with the exception of my nephew, I don’t regularly engage my blood relatives. It isn’t due to having no desire to be close to people who share my DNA; it’s 100% due to moving away from dysfunction. This is often referred to breaking generational curses and it’s one of the harder parts. Mainly because as you change, if you still keep the company of those who aren’t changing and won’t, conflict will arise on a regular basis. Familial interaction becomes like oil and water about damn near everything. So, while I’m fully aware that children need more than just one solid person in their lives, I can’t wait on everyone to show that she’s important. I’m still responsible for my part.
Spending the week of Christmas with one of the best friends was a reminder that I don’t have to wait for anyone to include us. While that was a great and unexpected gesture, the kiddo and I spend most holidays in our home. We might go catch a movie and do a little shopping but nothing that I’d consider memorable or different from our usual weekend life. Spending the holidays in New Orleans with both sides of the besties family was like a huge bear hug though… very warm and welcoming. It reminded me of my favorite grandmother too. I never questioned if she loved me because I felt it… something I don’t feel from anyone in my family but my nephew and daughter.
So this January I pledge to exude as much of that love my grandmother gave me, to my daughter. Which leads to a word that has been randomly popping up for the last six months: accessibility.
I think some people had grown used to me being available whenever they wanted/needed me, to the point that they began to take me for granted. The idea that I’m not going anywhere, I guess created space for some people to be like it didn’t really matter how they treated me. You ever notice how cautious people are when they’re afraid they’re going to lose someone? Not saying that’s healthy but it’s obvious that they’ll put effort and energy into not squandering any time they do get to spend with you. In a healthier, ideal world, we would treat each other like their time and presence is always important. But alas, here we are on Earth fucking shit up simply because we can.
I don’t like feeling like I don’t matter. So, I’m changing that too. There are younger versions of myself that possessed parts worth revisiting. Moving forward with my life while others catch me when they can, suited me best. I will admit that I created space for some people to have all the access they want and need and… it’s become to my detriment. I thought I was doing it out of love for them but I think it was done more so out of fear that if I didn’t, they’d leave. To this I say, people gone leave when they want to so if they gone leave, bye. Space needs to keep being created for the things I say I REALLY want in my life and that means letting go of things and people that really shouldn’t be taking up my time and space.
Even as I write all of this, I’m well aware that letting go and actually watching people leave isn’t going to be simple. I love these people. HOWEVER, if every month I have left of this life, I’m supposed to be living it intentionally because death comes for us all, why would I waste another moment with anyone who’d gladly waste the time I have left? I want to live each day doing more of what I like, less of what I don’t, and with people who want that for me and themselves too.
January, I welcome all 31 days of you into my 44th year of life, even if it involves some painful but necessary letting go. I will grim and bear through it.
