Rough around The Edges

What’s wrong with me? I mean besides the obvious things. Besides the painfully obvious compulsions, anxiety, and awkwardness. Okay, maybe I know EXACTLY what is wrong with me. I know the whys and what brought me here. I know my dangerous relationships with men stem from my insatiable urge to gain my father’s acceptance. That my relationships with women typically self-destruct before I can be abandoned again. I crave people. I crave relationships. I crave the pain that comes along with them because I feel I deserve it.

I work at a yoga studio. On the counter of the front desk sit plates of angel and blessing cards. On each of the cards, is a word…a mantra…something you need more of…something to come…something you’re struggling with. Today I got my least favorite card in the deck: “discernment.” Discernment…choices. Even the card’s picture looks daunting. The cards are all illustrated with sweet angels as is this card, but where other’s see a cute white dog in the passenger seat, I see a ghost. I ghost in the passenger seat seemingly there to let me know that I am fucked whichever path I choose to take. Why couldn’t I get “play”, or “celebration?” “Contentment” even. But no, I got fucking discernment.

Choices. Do I continue on or duck out like I always do? Do I fail again? Do I not finish what i started AGAIN?