Share and Try Not to Care...Too Much

Morning is here again, bright and new It intimidates me by always asking, what will you do? The options are endless, but c'mon, it's me Faithful to my protective patterns is what I tend to be The concept of time weighs on me, day after day Will there ever be enough of it, and when I'm running out will I know what to say? I'd like to move forward, go forth with ease But this year is important, so don't let it be over too soon, please I'm rarely present in the moments, they pass me by The more unpleasant ones stay with me which begs the question, why? I wish I'd prioritize gratitude over comparison, but it's tricky I try to shake anxiety and envy, but they're ever-growing within me   If it's up to me to  choose  happiness, to be full Then why do I convince myself it's out of my control?   Right and wrong, everyone has their own opinions I need to place more faith in  myself  when it comes to maki...

I made a list of summer goals for myself, which isn't new for me. However, what is new is the last goal I wrote: "Forgive myself when I fall short of my expectations." I wanted to keep that in mind because I have a tendency to assume that achieving my goals will result in the same happiness and success I see others experiencing. Now as I read that last sentence again I completely understand that it makes zero sense. It doesn't make sense because I'm talking about my  goals, which I'm certain look very different from my peers'. And it's imperative to remind myself that that's not a bad thing.     One of my last blog posts (https://libbycrawford4.blogspot.com/2017/12/may-i-recognize-my-progress.html) focused on how it's easy for me to not acknowledge the progress I've made as it relates to living with an anxiety disorder. Well, guess what? Anxiety rears its ugly head again when I turn to my future. I get that the journey of growth is (and sh...

I wonder... I wonder what it would be like to let my truth flow from my lips and not judge every bit of it as it does I wonder how it'd be different to actually live freely in the moment with my friends and not hate myself for experiencing a new kind of buzz I wonder if I'll one day be able to scroll through my feed late at night and not deem my beauty insufficient compared to the masses I wonder if it'll ever become easier for me to trust my loved ones with my brokenness and not hope that they continue to view me with special glasses I wonder how I would change if I learned to take up space and not convince myself that my light doesn't work that way I wonder what it would feel like to actually want  to hold a guy's hand and not listen to what that self-conscious voice in my head has to say I wonder when I'll learn to embrace the hurt that accompanies being human and not shy away from what disturbs my safe, familiar shell I wonder w...

    I was about 12 years old when I started regularly seeing a therapist to talk about my anxiety. I am now 20 years old, and although eight years offers plenty of time for growth, there are still some days that I feel like 12-year-old Libby who wrote in her journal about being sad even when she was around other people, and how she was overwhelmed by these thoughts inside her head that told her she didn't matter all that much. When I encounter these low moments, I become very frustrated with myself and question if I'll ever be the kind of person I want to be if my anxiety's presence is so strong.     Then I have to breathe (I'm actually really working to do that simple activity more often) and remind myself that I am so not the same person I was eight years ago. I have spent almost a decade since then changing, learning, and approaching my anxiety in a much healthier way than I would've if my parents had never encouraged me to seek professional help (thank you x i...

    My last blog post centered on how I have a tendency to compare in my life and how that affects my self-esteem and makes me feel isolated from my peers. Well, it's not always a comfortable place to be, but I've actually learned a lot about myself in isolation. As we get older, I think it's important that we keep changing and growing, and try not to constantly judge ourselves along the way. I often struggle with the questions "who am I?" and "what do I want?" They're not easy questions to answer, especially if we're lying to ourselves to fit the acceptable mold that surrounds us. The weight of who I feel like I'm supposed to be sometimes feels so heavy that I'd rather lie in bed watching The Office forever so I don't have to confront my fear of not being good enough. But I know that's not what I'm meant to do. I'm working to look at my life for what it is and recognize that comparing is only robbing me of my authenticit...

     I don't look like her. My hair is frizzy and inconsistent. Her presence leaves its mark and I don't know if I've ever been that beautiful a moment of my life. I don't look like her and I wonder how she sees me. Does she know that I think being pretty is both a blessing and a curse? I don't think pretty girls realize the world is at their fingertips. We outsiders have to find something else to cling to; I'm still trying to figure out what that is for me.      I'm funny, but at my own expense. I don't know how to take myself seriously. I often feel like a fraud auditioning for parts everyone knows I'd be no good at. I am composed, but I am crumbling. I joke to distract from that. Laughing is easy, pretty is different—a different I don't know how to access.      That guy just smiled at me. I smile back and silently pray that I'll never see him again. Being his acquaintance is safe, that means feelings won't get involved. My...

    I am pretty young to be thinking about having children, but let's face it, there's no way I'm not going to be a mother in the future. If there's one thing that comes naturally to me beside my immediate laughter to farting, it's my maternal instincts. I'm only 19 but I already know that it will be the most emotionally exhausting and ridiculously rewarding (yes alliteration!) job I'll ever have.      I've had a tough relationship with my self-esteem and body image ever since I can remember. It started at a young age and based on the society we live in today, I believe it will be hard for my daughter to avoid the same troubled mindset I have when it comes to her own body. Who knows if I'll actually have a daughter, but if I do, I want her to know that these are some of the things I hope for her throughout her life.   I hope she  won't  develop a resentful relationship toward food; specifically desserts I hope she  won't  feel comp...