one of my greatest weaknesses has always been my tendency to see everything in absolutes.
something is good or something is bad. something is 100% going to happen or 100% not going to happen. I either like and participate in something or I don’t, ever.
do you know what this is called? very, dangerously inaccurate.
it used to be so convenient. it made my life as a doormat far too easy. I would get a piece of information that caused me to reevaluate something in my life, and then with great determination and energy I would change course in a very absolute way. for instance, when I stopped adhering to Christianity, I did so often by completely discounting anything that I considered “Christian,” even if those were things that I could acknowledge were valid ways of living.
this has caused a number of destructive situations in my life, which I have brought almost fully upon myself and often spin up into with a weird sort of glee, because it’s helpful for abdicating responsibility.
thank fucking god I have someone stubborn and loving enough to remind me that the world isn’t black and white, that not everything (and few things at all, really) have a moral absolute, and that many things have no moral requirement at all. “just…enjoy what’s right in the moment,” Jake told me last night.
it took me a long time to fall asleep, because I kept thinking about how, try as I might, I can’t make moments happen, and I certainly can’t make them happen a specific way. I can influence how I approach a situation, yes, but ultimately I am responsible for my behavior and choices and don’t get to place the blame for any unhappiness I encounter on the “fact” that, well, I don’t participate in X because it’s wrong, or, well, I only said X because I thought it was right.
nope. nope nope nope. especially not when this behavior drags down the biggest-hearted, most supportive and loving man I’ve ever met. I want to take moments as they come – scoop them up and roll around in them and revel in them with the solid warmth of my other half behind me.
