How Well Do You Know Yourself?

Ever heard the phrases, "I know myself..." "I know you better than you know yourself..." "Know thyself..." "This is who I am..."? Well, I have. A lot. Most people don't know it's hard work to truly know yourself. Your hidden depths, your essence, your flaws, your strengths and your weaknesses. I didn't know that either. I do now though. I've been working on it for a while now. Remember when I said I wanted to build up my willpower and acquire self-discipline? No, that hasn't happened yet but while doing my research on the subject or subjects I finally had a clearer picture of who I am. I understand that this is the first stage in my journey. For so long, I haven't been able to correctly answer that question. Few people can. We never truly take the time to look beneath the surface. Mostly I just answer, "I'm Adupeola" and that's that.

I know better now. I am a woman of many contradictions. I am as soft as I am strong. As good as I am bad. As wise as I am foolish. As loving as I am hateful. As forgiving as I am unforgiving. As generous as I am selfish. As caring as I am uncaring. As sweet as I am sour. As cold as I am warm. I am made up of extremities. My highs are the highest and my lows the very lowest. I even confuse myself. I do not think there was a time I wasn't called weird. Even when I came back to Nigeria and felt like Nigerians didn't truly understand the term weird, I find I understand where they're coming from. I never truly fitted anywhere. And I always tried too hard to blend. It took me a while to get over that need. It was stressful because I was both indifferent and obsessed with being 'one of the guys'. Eventually, I was okay with knowing I would never have a 'bff'. Only people comfortable with being vulnerable have those.

I'm a great liar. Probably the greatest to have ever existed with the exception of Mr. Lucifer ofcourse(it's very possible that he's the only one with a bigger ego than mine). I'm not a pathological liar. I only lie to protect myself. Like I said earlier,  I'm not very comfortable being vulnerable. Honesty leaves you vulnerable. Why did I start researching my issues by delving into psychology instead of going back to the therapist? Because I lied to him. Not so much that he couldn't help me with whatever was bothering me, but enough that he never quite knew the whole story. Everybody I've met in my entire life has left with a bit of story that I made up. None of them knew the true me. They know what they heard about me, or the act I put up sometimes. Most people think I'm this wild, reckless, saucy girl. I can be. It's an act I've had to perfect to keep myself safe. I'm mostly a reserved girl who loves nothing better than to hole up in her room with a good book or movie. Does it bother me that people don't know the real me? I don't have an answer for that question yet.

A couple of months ago, I wrote a post tagged the truth. If I were to be completely honest I would say, the gist of the post is closer to the truth than the post in it's entirety. It's an almost-truth. Makes you wonder if my secrets are that dark doesn't it? They might be, but I'm pretty sure that there are people with darker. I never feel the urge to change my past. I know it's a done deal and I'll probably carry the wounds/scars around with me for the rest of my life. Sometimes, the pain seems unbearable and the burden seems heavy until I hear or read about somebody else's story and I tell myself to keep moving. To keep living. I feel like there are people that might need to hear a story like mine. I'm probably one of the few bravest people with just the right amount of cowardice to pull that off. I'm not ready though. The only time I tried, the person I tried to help ended up comforting me. A part of me likes to believe that I still helped him in some way. Sigh. I need to heal more. Scars are always better than healing wounds. Scars talks about a past battle.  Healing wounds point to a war that is still being fought.

One of my on-going wars is that of my weight. Exactly 2 years ago, I moved from an imperfect size 8 with curves in all the right places and gradually moved up to a woeful size 16 or 18(depending on how much I've binged that month) (yes, I jumped up 8 fucking sizes) with too much fat. Right now I'm on an emotional roller-coaster. I have no idea what kind of mood I'll be in in the next hour. It just seems so unfair that on top of all that, I have to deal with my weight. And yes, I'm touchy about it. Every outsider that dared to comment on it has automatically been deleted from my life. I do not like the way I look right now, but it is my battle and I do not want commentators.

To be honest(for once), I haven't tried all that hard to lose it. I hate losing. I like to win. To achieve. To attain. Most of my problems started when I couldn't complete some of my goals. I'm scared that if I try to lose weight I won't be able to and I can't stand to know that I can't lose this weight on my own. I'm moody and irritable because I cannot stand to look at myself in the mirror. And now I even feel as if people that pay me compliments are mocking me. Sigh. I feel so helpless and I don't want to feel that way. I'm aware that my problem won't go away until I make an attempt to make it go away. Until I try, I don't get to give up.

I know enough to realize that it might be a little easier if I had a support group of some sort. People with the same goals. A success circle if you will. I've done that. I've joined a couple of support groups online and it has been a tremendous help to me. I learned a little while ago that trying to leap over a mountain on your own can be very hard, it helps to have people that are ready to catch you when you fall or at the very least recover your body so you don't rot in the middle of nowhere. I've learned quite a lot about myself this last couple of weeks. Some things I don't like so much and I'm open to change. Others, I love and I admire and I plan to build up on them.

Well, that's enough about me(I ttend to babble sometimes...).

How well do you know yourself?