There’s this thing in therapy that I do where I talk to myself. I talk to my child self. The little girl with the brightest smile and the cutest dimples- the one all the teachers loved. I talk to my teenage self who was very, very lost and confused; she lived with a gray cloud over her life. And sometimes it’s not even me of a different age. Sometimes it’s the version of Meg who is tired or the Meg who is burnt out. I’ve learned that there’s so many different versions of myself that all exist in this one, strong body.
But I don’t just talk to her, I listen to her too.
Sometimes she whispers. Little Meg often just looks up and stares. Sometimes she screams. You know it’s bad when she screams.
And right now, she’s crying.
She’s so so hurt.
I’m so sorry Meg.
The Meg that did the work. The Meg that carried herself out from the depths. The Meg that woke up each and every morning and put one foot in front of the other. This Meg feels so much sadness and pain.
Because she did the hard things. She carried the weight so that all the other pieces of Meg could keep moving forward. She bore the brunt of the last two years. And in an instant, the impulsive Meg threw it all out the window. So now she feels stupid.
She feels cheated and unimportant. She feels like all the effort she put in was for nothing. She feels like she’ll never end up on top. She’ll always come in second place. Or worse, that she’s not permanent. That’ll she’ll never have a lasting role.
All because impulsive Meg couldn’t stick to her no.
And then you have impulsive Meg.
Impulsive Meg always makes the mistakes. She never thinks logically or with reason. Her decision-making approach has no wisdom. This is the Meg that is furthest away from my truest self.
And yet it’s the one that has the strongest ties to my deepest desires.
Because impulsive Meg won’t think. She’ll just do. And her doing is often led by what is so desperately wanted. She doesn’t do something at random or just because. She does the thing that I yearn for most in the quickest and easiest way possible to achieve that. This is why she’s the most dangerous. Because she has the best intentions but she carries it out in the most reckless way possible.
Impulsive Meg knows exactly what I what. She knows the depths of my heart. She pays attention to the things I crave and she takes note of the things that I love. But her approach is terrible.
I’ve wanted to puke all day. I’ve felt nauseous and tired and lifeless.
Because these two parts of myself are not getting along. They will never see eye to eye.
But I need to tell them that I hear them.
That the strong Meg is still the strongest woman I know. She is the reason why I’m still going and she’s the reason why I’ll keep on going. Her hard work was not a waste, and the work she’s going to continue doing is greatly valued. The strong Meg is a force to be reckoned with.
And the impulsive Meg, my goodness the impulsive Meg, you need to take a deep breath. You need to pause, you need to think, and you should probably pray while you’re at it too. You mean well, but you need to think about for all my days. She- every piece of Meg- deserves for all her days.
Now I feel a little schizophrenic, but I can genuinely say my whole being- all the various pieces of me- feel a whole lot better.