Love, as benevolent beings, is what we live for: generally, specifically, and personally. It is, at times, a force often doubted or denied, but our lives are full of love. If we choose to look.

   Familial love should prepare us for everything else we come to cherish. Unconditional, above all else, it is possibly our first experience with contentment. Even to your youngest self. 

   Through our families we are introduced slowly to divine love — ‘agape’ as the ancient Greeks might say — in whichever faith or familiarity we are raised into. The principles of such will, in essence, provide morals and meanings that guide us through the days and decades.

   Friendships or platonic love becomes important to our being as the world we step into grows larger and more complex. We recognize there are others to rely on and experientially grow with.

   Romantic love speaks for itself: you know it when you feel it.

   It is self-love, above all else, that keeps us in the state to care about everything else. Of all the love available to you, self-love is crucial to your well-being. When that commodity runs short, or becomes unrecognizable, you are unable to function as you should. The difficulties become obvious, if only to yourself.

   I have been struggling for a time, I know it, I do; but had not recognized the symptoms as early as I should. I know it now, but didn’t then or didn’t when, I needed to.

   My mental health suffered, dark thoughts consumed my headspace, and it took (or takes) time to get over. Anxieties are no longer day-to-day, not in the same way. It took work and an understanding beyond what I could see (or had been seeing). My natural curiosity led me to research. I went deeper than I thought, made therapy a part of me and walked a little closer to central patterns of my life. Yes, I journaled — I found the time —I made the words my own: so many thoughts others may never read but important, nonetheless.

   A self-journey, indeed, but there where people around to support me, guide me (when I let them in), and love me as I was. In this process, full of distractions and diversions, I came to the stark realization that there was nobody else to blame for my issues and misunderstandings. For far too long I realized I had been. 

   I began to own up to my responsibilities; to live in a state of action and not reaction. It was revolutionary, at least to me, and I didn’t come to that decision recklessly.

   This revitalization of sorts has come over these past months where I began doing things I haven’t done for a while. It was my own art therapy you might say, I do, because I can find no better description for the attempts I made. This self-care has offered a new level of self-assurance.

   I did not see the sign until recently: Love me til I’m me again.

   I have been. I am now of sound mind, most of my time. I am me; perhaps not always the person I wanted to be but I am better able to live and be loved, just as I am and what I will be.

   This is not an easy admission, but I am the me I will continue to be. I am, now, happy with that. I must be.

   I am me.

© 2024 j.g. lewis