Hoarding Mistakes.

I am an organized packrat. I find it very difficult to part with anything that has meant something to me and my life. A note, card, receipt, or a ticket stub; I have all of them. They are a majority of my storage both physically and emotionally. My past is filled in boxes upon boxes and tucked safely away to never be looked at again. It’s a combination of comfort and a fear of separation that insists these mementos follow me in every single move that I’ve made thus far in my life. I have this unique gift of holding on to good and forgetting about bad. It’s haunted me at times and forced me to forget why I am, where I am. I remember smiles and hugs. I envision vacations and hear laughter. I remember firsts and forget lasts. Sometimes I have to force myself to focus on negativity in order to move on with the positives of my life. If not, I am consistently reliving the days of my past and unwillingly avoiding the present. This is a task I find extremely difficult and daunting. It’s hard for me to allow myself to experience something new even when I am willing to admit the crippling negativity that had once persisted. Deep with inside my heart I know that I can not worry about something that happened yesterday when it no longer carries a tomorrow.

I am very reluctant to point my finger at another without pointing it back at myself. I know how emotions often get the best of us. Hatred is temporary and love often prevails in the end and allows us to recoup what we‘ve lost in order to believe in persistence. As humans, we are made to love one another and tempted to mask our hurt with unaccountable anger. We are meant to forgive and motivated to learn from mistakes. Failing to learn from my missteps has often captured me in one vicious cycle that wont allow balance unless I remind myself to admit how it initially became a mistake. There are four reminders that I keep with me at all times. Four mementos that have not fueled me with hatred but remarkably with motivation to become a better person. Whether right or wrong, deserved or unfitting, they remind me how far I’ve come and that I have the final say in how my life is portrayed.

The older I get, the more I realize that my time on this earth is the most valuable possession that I own. Nonetheless, it’s not up to me as to how long I have. I’ve found myself to be less tolerant with merely being content and more susceptible to experiencing as much as possible until I find my cloud nine. If I never find it, so be it as long as I die trying. I’m not bitter, angry, or depressed. I am gracefully challenged with an abnormal amount of motivation to physically see what I feel within my heart. I try every day to be respectful for the gift I have been given; however, I can’t mask my truths. I apologize to those who have to see my reality and honesty in it’s negative light. It’s a part of who I am and how I feel. I can’t let go of something that internally inspires me to find what it is that will eventually relinquish that light and grant me the courage to let it go. Knowing that one day I will find it and be able to move on in a positive direction that I have so passionately searched for is all the motivation I need.

I want to thank the people who have given me my reminders. I honestly have let go of any resentment and have learned to forgive. These mementos are with me in good spirits to remind me of the strides I have made and the hurdles that I am capable of overcoming. They have allowed me the opportunity to no longer squander my time with something that had faced me in the wrong direction. These will not be boxed up and forgotten. They will make me smile and support my realization that sometimes making mistakes are the ultimate blessing in disguise.

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