Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been thinking of the concept of letting things go. Some people find it very, very easy to let go of something and move forward while others, such as myself, really struggle with this concept.
I’ve tried many different ways of letting go. I’ve tried pretending I don’t care, I’ve tried distance, I’ve tried destruction and I’ve tried forgetting. I’ve tried coming to peace with it, I’ve tried altering beliefs in order to give it up and I’ve tried forcing myself.
But I still struggle with letting go and I have no idea why.
It’s probably the best time now to explain that I’m talking about letting go of fears and doubts rather than actual, physical objects.
I read recently that the only reason people hang onto things is because they think it’s useful for them; I mean it’s actually useful to be afraid of snakes, especially in Australia, because chances are it’s extremely poisonous – thus, you keep your distance and not go up and give it a hug.
Then there are the irrational fears, the fears or doubts you can’t quite put your finger on. For example, it’s irrational (to me, at least) to be afraid to stand up for yourself, and I would love nothing better than to have my own back. However, if I’m faced with a situation where I need to hold my own I completely freeze. I’m one of those people that can think of the absolute best comebacks a day after I’m confronted.
It’s also common to hold onto things because they once made you happy, and I do this too mostly with relationships. I’m a clinger, and I probably would never have admitted to that even just 2 months ago. In this case I would love nothing better than to love myself enough to just let go of something (or someone) that is not working, but instead I have to try and “make it work” just because they make, or made, me feel happy.
Even within the acceptance of my own behaviour it is STILL not enough to let it go. Even holding up a mirror to my own actions and seeing it from a logical place cannot convince my emotions to see it the same way.
It has only been quite recently that I realised a part of me was terrified of relationships.
Me. The wonderful lady with the kind heart is TERRIFIED of men.
For a while there I was blaming my body for not knowing the difference between excitement and fear (which is the way a lot of specialists have tried too pass off my anxiety) but once I started putting two and two together, that I’ve always been very skittish and nervous around romantic interests, that got me thinking – maybe it’s not my body, maybe it’s me.
I couldn’t work out why most of my first dates had me freaking out, unable to eat, unable to relax until I’d had a full on panic breakdown. Then, as the relationship progressed I had to become a fraction of who I really am in order to survive in it.
I mean I LOVE to love. It’s my thing, So how on earth could I be acting this way in regard to relationships.
I still don’t know the answer. I’ve never had a situation in my life that would warrant this kind of response, but knowing me I will eventually find out.
I guess my point is that over my 30 odd years of being alive I can now pick out my patterns, try my best to change or overcome them, but find myself no closer to letting them go. So many times I’m told “just get over it”, “move on”, “you can do it” but, like, HOW? I’ve been trying for years but I just seem to be missing the Letting Shit Go gene.