*Peeks around corner*
So....you know how you really want to write something and you have an idea of how you want it to sound but then the words come out and you temporarily lose your ability to see past your feelings and you stop for half a second at the end and consider everyone else's feelings regarding the subject and you hit "Publish" anyway, because, "EFF OFF FEELINGS!" No?? Just me then? Well....okay. Did anyone get a description of that masked Rant-er back there?? I maybe need a pop-up button that comes after I push "Publish" that says, "Are You Sure?" and then perhaps another, "Are You REALLY Sure?".
That last post came out a little more....angry (?) than I wanted. A little more 'poor me' than I intended, maybe?
Yes, a lot of years ago some stuff happened. A lot of stuff, actually. It started with a Thing, and then it turned into Stuff and it escalated to a Situation. And I guess what I am saying is, the Stuff was, yes, a long ride to Suckville on a CrapTrain, and removing myself from the Situation was very, very, painful but I made it out and I'm a better person for having lived through all of it. Though I do have to say that I was doubtful for awhile there that I would actually make it out in one piece. But I did. And today is sort of an anniversary of the beginning of all the Stuff, which was preceded by the anniversary of the Thing by four days. And I maybe have some lingering anger issues and possibly need a lot of therapy but that's not really news to anyone who knows me.
Here's the thing, though, I was there, too. I have responsibility in all of the Stuff, and the Thing was all mine to live with, and so, I walked into the Situation with my 20ish year old eyes wide open. I don't like the idea that I'm putting something out into the world which places me in the role of 'victim' and erases any responsibility I had in the Situation. I was in my very early 20's, I was immature, over-dramatic, insecure and naive, but I made choices just like every other person involved in the Situation. When I got hurt, I acted in the way a young and inexperienced person reacts, I hurt back. Maybe the scars aren't the same......but I left scars. I didn't do the right things. I am not proud of who I was in those weeks and months. I've had to ask for a lot of forgiveness.
The point is, I own what I did. Nobody forced my hand. I wasn't a great person and the reasons why I was behaving the way I did do not matter. The point is, I grew up. I learned. And I can not honestly say the same for other's that were involved in the Situation, but I know the very few things I have heard over the years have indicated to me that the same can not be said for all involved.
I don't feel particularly sad about it. I don't feel.....anything about it, really. I feel like the best thing I can do is live a life I can be proud of, and have faith that God knows why he sent me into the Thing/Stuff/Situation and all will be revealed in His time. While I am waiting for those answers to be revealed to me, I don't want to play the victim. It was bad, then I (with MUCH MUCH HELP) fixed. it. And now here I am.
So there. *WHEW* It's really, really tempting to press the delete button on both of these posts and crawl into bed and start all over tomorrow, but I think I won't. I am not sorry about the Thing. Not ever. Not even a little bit. I have many regrets about Stuff, and I never want to live through another Situation like that one again, but I am grateful for all of it, somehow, too.
Monday, September 9, 2013
You
Last Thursday night I was shopping. I leaned down to get something off the bottom shelf and I heard your voice snark in my ear, "Your ass looks huge when you lean down like that." And I stopped what I was doing and fixed the way I was crouched before I even realized what I had done. It's Monday morning, and it's still bothering me.
For better or worse, in my head, there lives a community of voices. A collection of memories of things that people have said to me, good and bad. Truthfully....they're mostly bad. And yours is the loudest voice in there. The lead dissident. You.
In all the years and all the life that has happened, it's still your voice that snarls in my ear when I'm feeling low. It's still you that tells me I'm not good enough, not pretty enough, not anything enough. Or conversely, you often tell me I am too much. When my heart is broken, as it was all that time ago, it's you who tells me that I deserve it. It's your words that haunt me when I'm feeling insecure.
My heart was in pieces....in my head I think of a puzzle with missing pieces, you might be able to get away with a missing corner or some edge pieces, but my missing fragments were right out of the middle. I know that you took what I offered and I know that you gave me back loneliness and hurt and fear and shame.
I wish that the me of today could sit the me of those days down and have a talk with her. She was so naive. I somehow managed to convince myself that if I helped heal the hurt in your heart, you would help fill in the gaps in mine. Instead, I think you made the holes wider and deeper. But I survived. I learned to be grateful for the things you taught me about myself. The truth about me. I learned to ignore the memory of the sound of your voice. I learned that fear is what drove you to lie and cheat. I learned that the things you said to me were more about you than me. I Spackled up the holes, some temporarily, some not, and I moved on.
But once in awhile, you still whisper in my ear, as you did last Thursday. Once in a while, I forget that you never really knew me, and you never really liked me. You.
So, on this anniversary of what should have never been, what is never going to be, let me tell you some things about me. Get to know me a little before you decide to tell me all about the things that are repugnant about me, because you were so wrong about me.
I'm a great mom. You lied about that.
I'm a great wife. You lied about that, too.
I'm not a waste of any one's time. You were wrong about that.
I'm funnier than you ever thought. You were wrong about that, too.
I'm smart about a lot of things. Just not what you thought I should be smart about.
I'm kind because I want people to count on me. Because I have needed someone to count on in my life, and you were not it.
I WAS so grateful for the help I received. You had me convinced that I didn't deserve any one's kindness so I may not have expressed how grateful I was....but I still thank God everyday that he answered the prayers that he did, and sent the people he did, and blessed me the many, many ways that he did. So, you were very wrong about all of that, as well.
I am worthy of kindness and love. You were mistaken.
So....here it is. Your eviction notice.
Maybe you had your reasons, maybe there's some excuse but I don't have time for any of that. I have a whole life that you wouldn't recognize me in, and I'm sure if you could you would pick it apart and analyze and make sure I know what areas I am failing miserably in, but I'm much too busy LIVING it to listen to any of that kind of talk.
So, thank you for the lessons. They were valuable and hard-learned. They are all being passed on in a gentler, kinder way to my children. Perhaps I will save them the pain of learning some of those things the hard way. Perhaps that is, itself, the reason I had to learn them.
You.
For better or worse, in my head, there lives a community of voices. A collection of memories of things that people have said to me, good and bad. Truthfully....they're mostly bad. And yours is the loudest voice in there. The lead dissident. You.
In all the years and all the life that has happened, it's still your voice that snarls in my ear when I'm feeling low. It's still you that tells me I'm not good enough, not pretty enough, not anything enough. Or conversely, you often tell me I am too much. When my heart is broken, as it was all that time ago, it's you who tells me that I deserve it. It's your words that haunt me when I'm feeling insecure.
My heart was in pieces....in my head I think of a puzzle with missing pieces, you might be able to get away with a missing corner or some edge pieces, but my missing fragments were right out of the middle. I know that you took what I offered and I know that you gave me back loneliness and hurt and fear and shame.
I wish that the me of today could sit the me of those days down and have a talk with her. She was so naive. I somehow managed to convince myself that if I helped heal the hurt in your heart, you would help fill in the gaps in mine. Instead, I think you made the holes wider and deeper. But I survived. I learned to be grateful for the things you taught me about myself. The truth about me. I learned to ignore the memory of the sound of your voice. I learned that fear is what drove you to lie and cheat. I learned that the things you said to me were more about you than me. I Spackled up the holes, some temporarily, some not, and I moved on.
But once in awhile, you still whisper in my ear, as you did last Thursday. Once in a while, I forget that you never really knew me, and you never really liked me. You.
So, on this anniversary of what should have never been, what is never going to be, let me tell you some things about me. Get to know me a little before you decide to tell me all about the things that are repugnant about me, because you were so wrong about me.
I'm a great mom. You lied about that.
I'm a great wife. You lied about that, too.
I'm not a waste of any one's time. You were wrong about that.
I'm funnier than you ever thought. You were wrong about that, too.
I'm smart about a lot of things. Just not what you thought I should be smart about.
I'm kind because I want people to count on me. Because I have needed someone to count on in my life, and you were not it.
I WAS so grateful for the help I received. You had me convinced that I didn't deserve any one's kindness so I may not have expressed how grateful I was....but I still thank God everyday that he answered the prayers that he did, and sent the people he did, and blessed me the many, many ways that he did. So, you were very wrong about all of that, as well.
I am worthy of kindness and love. You were mistaken.
So....here it is. Your eviction notice.
Maybe you had your reasons, maybe there's some excuse but I don't have time for any of that. I have a whole life that you wouldn't recognize me in, and I'm sure if you could you would pick it apart and analyze and make sure I know what areas I am failing miserably in, but I'm much too busy LIVING it to listen to any of that kind of talk.
So, thank you for the lessons. They were valuable and hard-learned. They are all being passed on in a gentler, kinder way to my children. Perhaps I will save them the pain of learning some of those things the hard way. Perhaps that is, itself, the reason I had to learn them.
You.
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