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I Realize That I

I realize that the biggest reason for my existence may be being forgiven over and over and not given up on by God, and some people. Existing so others could witness that, and so I could experience it myself. Of learning I can screw up everything, have done awful things, not accomplished what I should, be hated, be told what I have done or not done (sometimes very justifiably), been a round peg in a square world, lost all vestiges of hope, and yet still be here, supported and not given up on. I think that when I have let go or turned away from any hand, I have been held on to nonetheless, sometimes it felt like from the back of my shirt collar. Very very lucky, no one including God Himself was required to do it. I would make a good patron for the screw ups, the hopeless, the broken hearted. 🙂 (Said in jestbut Ctually meant in earnest).
 
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I realize that having to wait til everyone is sleeping and creeping around to eat and avoid any potential fray is weird, and it's no small wonder I'm getting issues around food. That being said, it's good food, and it 'is' food.

I suppose some things are only as big a deal as I make them, or perhaps the weight I assign.
 
That I was very naive to hope I was following what would be healing.
And that people I'd consider fundamentally very honest, aren't very convincing when they're not.
Disappointed. In them and me. Especially myself.
 
That it may continue to get worse before it gets better…but I am recognizing and appreciating the better that I’m already feeling, despite the getting worse parts. Hanging in there during the hard times. Enjoying the moments of peace. Riding the roller coaster.
 
I realize that I thought my dad bent down in a certain position/ way because of his long legs, but I think it was his terrible back.
I realize the times as a very little kid when I would say, "Are you laughing dad?", he was crying. Recognize the expression, both seeing it and my own.
 
I realize from a horrible nightmare, wherein I was an accomplice to murder, that this thought is what started this whole mess rolling so many years ago, though I wasn't, but it was what I 'didn't' do, that I feel, to stop it. Hence the self-blame. I never thought to word it that way (those words) until the past 10 minutes. They were too frightening to say or write. Horrible and horrible, horrific feeling. I try to even carry most bugs outside instead of squishing them. Just makes me shake and feels so gross and fearful. 😪😔🥺
 
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