In the midst of feeling sorry for myself, my pity party was brought to a halt by a revelation masquerading as an introspective question: what if this is self-generated suffering? An electrical surge rushed through my body obliterating all tension. My mind became silent, then, my breath adopted a harmonious cadence.This is kind of amazing, I thought. I allowed myself to enjoy this peculiar state of being.
A few minutes passed.
What if I’m causing my own suffering?
Of course, I am!!!!
Whaaat??!! Who said that? The certainty of the answer disturbed me. What about the people that hurt me in the past? Aren’t they the ones causing me to suffer over and over? Alas, the truth bomb had decimated victim pacifying rationalization. I could no longer deny the obvious: I am causing my own suffering.
I chose to accept responsibility for the reality I had created and there was no turning back. I was stunned by how easily I acknowledged the part I had played in my misery – I felt liberated.
The same belief system that broke me was the one I was using to unravel myself from the grips of the past. Instead of healing, I was actively keeping the wounds open by rehashing the same old stories. The fact is, people did hurt me. I was a victim of multiple traumas and my inability to deal with the devastating events in my life forced me to create a belief system to protect myself – a way of coping with a life I believed would always be a struggle.
I became so identified with past traumas, I developed a victim identity. I made an agreement with myself that I would stay on the downside of life to avoid pain. I did not think I could handle adversity. I was scared of living.
When I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety, it reinforced my poor-me mentality. Great! I’m officially a certified loser! Although, I enjoyed my weekly therapy sessions, I never truly had faith that my life would change. I believed in therapy, I just did not believe in myself.
Victimhood tricks you into thinking you have zero control over your life, that whatever you attempt is futile. It’s false. I wasted a portion of my life at the mercy of my circumstances, it’s beyond fucked up but I must let go. To realize what happened to me in the past does not have to determine the rest my life is a precious insight. I can now opt-out of victimhood.
The pity party is over, I’ve run out of whine!