I used to think…

I used to think that I should do any­thing to get what I want.  I fought, screamed, bit, kicked, what­ev­er it took.  I used to think that was a good thing; that it made me strong.  Logically, this does­n’t make any sense.  Emotionally, this atti­tude is drain­ing.  Physically, it is dan­ger­ous.  Socially, it is destruc­tive.  Personally, it has crushed my self worth.

I used to think that every­body lived to fight for their posi­tion.  That liv­ing meant get­ting the approval of those high­er than you, and the respect of those low­er than you, even if you have to take it from some­body else.  It is as though there is a lim­it­ed quan­ti­ty of approval and respect that is spread out among every­body, and the more you have, the bet­ter off you are going to be.

I used to think that it was impos­si­ble to make a mis­take, as long as I was pay­ing atten­tion.  If some­body else thought it was a mis­take, then they must not have under­stood what I was think­ing at the time.  I defend­ed these deci­sions with a ven­om I hope most read­ers will nev­er see; if oth­ers did­n’t get it, then it was obvi­ous­ly a flaw in them, or their think­ing.  I would become irate if I could not prove the cor­rect­ness of my actions.

I used to think that I was worth­less, and hope­less.  I could nev­er stop mak­ing mis­takes, and there­fore I could nev­er gain the approval and respect that I so need­ed.  I could feel my posi­tion falling, so I fought.  Hard.  I became stub­born, angry, and head­strong, all while hid­ing a deep­en­ing depres­sion and anxiety.

I used to think that I was over all these things.

I used to think for­get­ting was the answer.

I used to think that I had dealt with my past.