Every other Saturday I play Shadowrun. When I first created this character, I had rudimentary knowledge about how the game worked, absolutely no idea how to play a caster, and pretty much relied on the GM and one of my gaming buddies for help with the basic creation. So, here I am, half a year later without much clue who this gal is and why she does what she does.
As I did for my D&D character, I am doing an introduction diary entry. Well, that's the plan. After I work through my thoughts on Whisper's stats and creation and stuff, it will probably be me freestyle writing as I figure out her motivations and back story.
Here's what I'm working with:
Wednesday, February 6, 2019
Monday, February 4, 2019
Those Damned Demons
Friday night I had an experience that reinforced the why's of my divorce. I'm not going to go into detail.
What I will say is that the rest of the weekend I struggled with the old familiar insecurities that I thought I'd fought through and won.
Why am I not lovable?
What is so very, very wrong with me??
Why am I not worth any effort?
Why don't I deserve the same treatment as a stranger on the street?
You'd think after 26 years I'd have the answers to these questions.
I don't.
Logically, I know the truth: I *am* lovable. I *do* deserve the same politeness and respect that a stranger on the street receives.
However, wow, once these demons get resurrected, they are nasty little insidious buggers that take a LOT of effort to shut up and silence.
Let me tell ya, I'm quite aware of my imperfections. I can write a big long list if anyone's curious. I tend to rip up and/or burn the list once I flip and describe two positive attributes for each negative -- but trust me, I can make a list!
One of the wonderful things about life is that most people are lovable in spite of - or because of - their imperfections. And happy day, I'm one of those. Some people even find a few of my idiosyncracies adorable.
There was a reason I left and I'm a stronger person for having the guts to do it. And to stick with it.
It's nice that I can talk to myself about it, but it's even better when I get a hug from someone I trust who reinforces that I am loved. No matter what.
What I will say is that the rest of the weekend I struggled with the old familiar insecurities that I thought I'd fought through and won.
Why am I not lovable?
What is so very, very wrong with me??
Why am I not worth any effort?
Why don't I deserve the same treatment as a stranger on the street?
You'd think after 26 years I'd have the answers to these questions.
I don't.
Logically, I know the truth: I *am* lovable. I *do* deserve the same politeness and respect that a stranger on the street receives.
However, wow, once these demons get resurrected, they are nasty little insidious buggers that take a LOT of effort to shut up and silence.
Let me tell ya, I'm quite aware of my imperfections. I can write a big long list if anyone's curious. I tend to rip up and/or burn the list once I flip and describe two positive attributes for each negative -- but trust me, I can make a list!
One of the wonderful things about life is that most people are lovable in spite of - or because of - their imperfections. And happy day, I'm one of those. Some people even find a few of my idiosyncracies adorable.
There was a reason I left and I'm a stronger person for having the guts to do it. And to stick with it.
It's nice that I can talk to myself about it, but it's even better when I get a hug from someone I trust who reinforces that I am loved. No matter what.
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