If anxiety is essentially being scared of life, I’m glad that I’m tired of being scared. It doesn’t matter what’s scaring me, I’m just tired of it. I just think “so what” and “who cares.” I could probably blame it on my mom, but so what, and who cares. I’m tired of blaming, too.
It’s all just resistance anyway; resistance to being a powerful, self-empowered human being. The more we play into our fears, the more it seems real. Who wants to live in fear? Who wants to live like a little mouse? Not I!
I’m not pushing against my mom and her husband, but I’m also not going to try to please them, either. Yesterday, I definitely felt angry and pushed against them, and I’m glad that I did, but I don’t need to keep pushing. I’ve been nice and respectful to them, not because I felt like I owed them anything, but because I wanted to be. I sincerely accept their assistance, but I don’t believe I owe them for their help. I think the best that anyone can do when offered help, is to sincerely receive it, which I have. I think my mom feels the same way, but it seems like her husband doesn’t, but who knows, who cares, and so what. That’s for them to figure out. I’m tired of caring about what others are doing.