c-PTSD Journals

In a society heavily driven by ego, there is nothing at all wrong with craving simplicity. – Chiara Gizzi

I just want to live a mediocre life.

I personally don’t see anything wrong with that anymore.

I used to feel a constant pressure all of the time, a chronic state of stress, of drive, of “what’s the next move?” or “how close am I to the next big goal?”

It felt like I was on Adderall all of the time, or a cocaine high, a buzzing in my head, the hard pounding of my heart in my chest, and the sounds all around me drowned out by the hum of my crazy brain.

I am not naturally like that. I like calm and peace. But being raised in a violent and abusive home with a narcissistic father created some patterns in me that are difficult to change, like the turning of a humongous ship on the ocean. It is taking time and great effort to let go of my need to do everything right or perfect, to wonder if I am enough or if I am going to die without leaving my mark on the world.

Fuck that. I am learning to leave perfectionism on the sidewalk as I walk down this life path. I don’t need to be anybody. There is no measurement of success besides what I decide to measure it by. I don’t need anything really, besides clean drinking water, fresh air to breath, shelter, and something to eat. Yeah, I want a lot of other things, but I don’t need them.

I don’t have to do quarterly Botox injections anymore to keep my wrinkles at bay or my cheeks plump. I used to do that shit. I used to get pedicures and manicures and wear the latest shade of lipstick. Fuck that shit. I just want to take 5-minute showers now and buzz my hair off and wear comfy clothes and let my belly have a little extra fat.

I don’t want to be great at anything. The pressure stresses my system more than it needs to be stressed. I have lived in a constant state of nervous stress since I was born. It’s fucking time to let myself breathe, to let myself just fucking be.

I took myself off of all social media platforms except for YouTube where I go to look up instructional videos or listen to educational topics sometimes. I don’t like taking photos of myself anymore and posting them for the world to see. Being on social media felt to me like a morning on which I had drank too many cups of coffee, hypervigilant and sweating, constantly checking likes and comments and dreaming up what I would post next and staying up late into the night emotionally fucked because of comments someone made on a post or photo I shared.

Fuck all of that. I am deciding how I am going to live whether it is the societal norm or not. I want to live mediocre, I want to have rest, peace, quiet, and not have my life on display for others to browse through like a magazine on a convenience store shelf. I don’t need the applause or approval of anyone. I don’t have to make a bucket list and cross things off of it to live my life. I don’t care that I live in a trailer in a poor area and that my floors and kitchen are dirty more often than clean and my clothes are mostly from Goodwill.

I didn’t finish a college degree. I haven’t had a single career path. In fact, I am working an entry level job for which I am overqualified. But it is quiet and I don’t have to deal with the public or talk to people so it works for me. It doesn’t stress me and I don’t think about my work when Im in bed trying to go to sleep.

I haven’t been the best mother. In fact, I don’t really like being a mother. I fed more cold cereal dinners than hot ones. I yelled and cried in frustration when my kids didn’t do their chores and had to apologize many times for my mistakes. I make sure my kids now know that mom is in therapy and sorting out her shit and that I wish I had had an open enough mind to try medication and get help years ago.

I don’t care that I drive an old Prius with dents in it or that I’ve let my gray hair show or that I don’t keep up with current events or have lofty goals like writing a bestseller or taking yearly exotic vacations.

I really don’t care what my funeral will be like or what, if anything, would be written in my obituary. I’ll be dead. All that matters anyways is this moment that I am living in right now. And I wake up happy most days now with the help of Zoloft and I feel a quiet calm when I lay down on my too-old mattress at night. I feel something I don’t ever remember feeling the past four decades of my life.

I feel peace.