Insecurities

I doubt myself a lot.

Did I do that right? Did they see that? Was that mean? She’s mad. I bet it was my fault. What have I done?

Why can’t I find the words to convey the hurricane in my soul??

Am I enough??

I have the inner cheerleader, of course, screaming as loud as she can. “Alli! Alli! She’s our girl!”
…And if she can’t do it, it’s probably because she’s an idiot.

Yeah. That’s a typical pep talk in my head. She tries.

And I have wonderful people around me that help as best they can. The ones that don’t go through the same things try and understand it. They try and comfort me. As I’ve told y’all a billion times (and I’ll say it a billion more) my husbands the best one at it. He doesn’t try to tell me it’s all in my head. He doesn’t try to brush it all away. He lets me cry. He lets me scream. He doesn’t try to say the words he doesn’t have, or that I don’t have. he doesn’t make me feel like my paranoia is insignificant. He just lets me self destruct, and then helps me rebuild.

And my fellow rainclouds are also life-savers. I honestly couldn’t guarantee that I’d still be on this blue and green planet if it weren’t for them. No one will ever fully understand what you’re going through and be able to help you through it unless they’ve been there. The best therapists are the ones who were once just as bent up, bruised and broken, as you are. No person, no degree, no amount of textbook studies will get it quite like they get it.

I am eternally grateful for those beautifully broken people. 

That being said, I still have my moments. I’ve had an ongoing ‘moment’ for the past few weeks, hence the blogging absence.

But the silver lining? I feel clean. After you spend a week crying there’s not much left. That gives me the opportunity to sit in the dark for hours and just…be. It’s important to take time to be. It brings you to conclusions such as the fact that you’re not a broken individual. You’re a constantly changing, exploding, rising, learning, dying, living, loving, chaotic mess of a human existence.

And you’re beautiful. Bruises and all.

“Why can’t I just be happy? Why do I want the things that are probably bad for me?”

“Because. You’re. Human. You’re you. You’re a hurricane of beautiful, necessary destruction. Mass chaos of natural causes and perfect misunderstanding. You’re star stuff. You weren’t made to be pristine and confined. You were made to combust and self destruct. And it’s a beautiful thing. Without self destruction there can be no re-build. No learning. No change.”

-Conversations with the rainclouds

Stay weird, y’all xoxo 

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