War against the wardrobe

Sometimes it doesn’t need to be some big tragedy happening or some huge chaining of unfortunate events. Sometimes all it takes to finally hit bottom is one small incident. So small actually that normally you wouldn’t even think of it as more than just a tiny inconvenience. But if you hit bottom this one little event becomes a huge drama. Because you just can’t take it anymore.

I think I finally reached the end of my patience when I began hitting my wardrobe while crying with rage. Because it was the last thing in a huge chaining of events that refused to cooperate. Or more specifically: To be moved. I simply couldn’t move it. Not even a little. Just not at all. And there was nothing to be done about it. My wardrobe defeated me by simply being too heavy for me to move. At all.

So why didn’t I call someone to help me? Because there was no one I could call. Or to be more specific: There was no one I wanted to call. The whole point of moving that damn thing was to prove to myself that I’d be able to achieve something as simple as moving furniture by myself. Except for the part where I failed. And cried and hit the damn thing so hard that I’d almost hurt myself. And that was exactly the moment I realized: No one is going to come and save me. And saving me by myself might not always be an option either.

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.”

(Leo Tolstoy)

This is not about whining or complaining. I know of all my flaws – giving up is not one of them. Running away is more like it. But where do you go if you know it won’t change anything? If you know that the problem are not the surroundings but you yourself? Wanting something isn’t enough. Neither is dreaming or hoping or even praying. Change never happens if you try to change the world around you, but fail to change yourself.

I know that. It’s just so damn hard to put a thought into action. But the problem is, if I don’t start changing some patterns it will be me and that damn unmovable wardrobe for the end of my days. You can’t dream or hope it into another corner – neither will it respond to prayers, shouting, crying or hitting. Believe me I learned that the hard way. It will only be moved by either asking someone else for help or trying to get someone into your life that will help you permanently. Both solutions have one thing in common: They need change.

I need to change. And I think I need to do it fast because time’s almost up.