Finding the stopping point in some situations has always eluded me. Either I go on too far, or I stop early and miss the opportunity.

How does anyone know they are officially at the end? When they are screaming and shouting to whomever is within closest range? I know it doesn’t have to come to that, but isn’t that a stopping point for many of us?

It would be nice if I could just pull out my favorite purple crayon and draw a line across my day, my life and announce to all involved, “this is the end”.

Am I really any better off from all the worrying, the second guessing, and years of digging around in the graveyard of my life? If I look back into the written archives here, I can see that I’ve had times in which I would shout from the rooftop of the mental health building telling all who would listen, therapy will save your life!

Therapy is worth all the tears, all the self actualization, all of the broken that brought you to the door in the first place. And then, some days it’s icky. Like the honey jar that no one ever wipes clean, leaving a trail of sticky wherever the honey pot goes.

It’s dark, and sad, and you question everything in your life and despise yourself for always asking why, or what can I do to make this better?

Sometimes, when I am looking for a reason for all of this hashing laid out for all to see, I will kid myself. I will say that the reason that I do this is because I am a thinker. A reacher, a digger, an archaeologist of the mind and I am this way for no other reason than this is who I am.

Often, I wonder if other people have the right idea. Just keep your head down, nose to the grindstone and block it all out. How many people do I actually know that do this and they are free from their demons?

None. Not a one person, despite their claims of being happy or peaceful and FINE with the way things are.

They are big fat liars, those people are.

I know it, you know it, and most of all THEY know it.

But what can you do?

Nothing.

If I am having a problem dealing with a person, or struggling with their actions, my therapist drills home the “accept them for who they are” concept. My job, if I am to be a content person, is to accept them for who they are. The biggest piece of this, is accepting myself for who I am. The better equipped I am for that, the better equipped I am with accepting you for who you are.

I must tell you, I have found that this actually works. Me, accepting people for who they are and not who I want them to be. It really works.

Most days, my simplest choice to pick up the tools that lay at my feet and use them as I embark into the world. Some days, I refuse to pick them up.

Arguing with myself about the tools. “They are too heavy today”, or “I’m SICK to death of picking them up”, “Why do I have to do it when no one else is doing it”.

Look at those other lazy fuckers just walking around with their noses to the grindstone, not looking, not telling, and pretending not to know. They seem fine to me!

And then the voice, that comes from deep inside, the one that speaks logic.

It says to me, in a loving voice that I can trust, “but you are not them”.