Love, I love you.

If my last post wasn't plain enough, it's clear I have been having some minor "issues" of late. Mostly revolving around the ever-present, self-deprecating voice in my head, these issues have challenged my ability to find balance in my life; at work, at home, in my relationships and everywhere in between.

In my-post college world, I began a healing process. I've mentioned it before, so I won't go into it, except to say I was on the mend from many self-inflicted wounds. With a newly developing inward peace, I embarked on a fresh chapter in my life, one where I learned to take new risks and improved my body and mind physically and philosophically. The "you're not good enough" mantra I'd heard for so long, became faint to my heart, as if coming from some far off place that I'd long since departed.

During that time, I met and ultimately fell in love with GC. For a short while, our life and love was simple and fun, without many cares. I imagine many new loves are like this, but having only been through the process once, I can only speak from my experience.

Unfortunately, life wasn't meant to go on for us in this way. GC's "honeymoon" with Caesar was coming to an end and all the challenges their relationship presented reared, dark and ugly in front of us. But with hope in both our hearts at the time, we clasped hands and entered the fray. Not being ones to give in easily, GC and I attempted to maintain the ridiculous forward motion of our life, despite Caesar's deteriorating behavior and treatment of us.

We got engaged. We began planning our wedding. I worked full time and began a new business relationship with a local artist making custom handbags and garments. I had my own little from Big Brothers Big Sisters thrice find herself in a mental health home for dangerous behavior. GC struggled with the trying managerial task of firing an ineffective employee, while trying to manage the day-in, day-out stress of a 12 hour day, 5 days a week family business. We bought a house. I moved out of my apartment. GC moved out of his apartment. We have attempted to set up a new home, together with all the challenges that new co-habitation brings. In the midst of the moves, we celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year.

And through all of this, I never allowed myself to process. It wasn't avoidance, but simply a case of looking at my feet and finding myself unable to jump off the treadmill. So with the pressure that all my life stresses were creating, I fell back into old (bad) habits. Creeping in slowing, filling in the crevices of self-doubt that questioned why I was unable to handle all this, it was "just life" after all, the voice returned. With it, it brought the fear of failing, of not being good enough, of not filling my roles perfectly.

It came out in the new house, with my insistence that it must be set up NOW! In the more frequent fights between GC and I. In my immense after-the-fact guilt. In my feeling wholly responsible for all that was not done and was left to do and the subsequent beating myself up for the failing.

To pieces I began to fall, until suddenly, as if they sensed the impending landslide, several sets of hands reached out and grabbed me. They were hands I new well, and hands I was slowly beginning to recognize. They were the hands of my mom, of my dad. Of my sister. And lastly, of GC.

They all know me well (and often better than I give them credit for). For this reason, they put the pieces down. They didn't tell how to put them back together or that I even needed to. In fact, they told me to leave them on the ground. In their own way, they each gave me to same message. "I love you, you go ahead and fall apart for a little while. I'll still be here when you find your way again."

As GC put it, when I'm standing at the end, no one is going to be there to grade my paper, and even if the are, I'm well on my way to a B+. It won't matter if I wasn't the perfect future daughter-in-law or if Martha didn't nod her head in domestic approval. If my enjoyment of life is lessened by the control I seek to impart on it, perhaps the control (or at least the crazy control) needs to go.

These people love me. Very much it would seem. They see these broken parts of me and somehow, still want me around. I suppose then, that I should take a feather out of their hat and jump on the love band wagon. Learning to take all parts of yourself, good and bad, throw them in the pot and still drink the soup is a life lesson I'll learn again and again. It may always be something of a painful lesson for me, but hey, a little pain isn't always a bad thing. It makes all the good a little sweeter.