I spent my whole life watching people close to me let themselves become dependent on others… losing themselves along the way. I watched them cripple themselves and blame it on someone else, or claim they could not get out or away. I watched as they laid down and accepted the kicks that life dished out, letting each blow change who they were and what they could be. I refuse to let that be my fate. I fought hard from a young age to never fall down that hole. I came close a few times… real close. I lost a lot, got a lot back, lost it again, and clawed my way up and out of the hole a few more times. I will not let someone else determine my tomorrow or what can have today. I will not let someone else change who I am or who I care about or where I am headed. I will not wait for anyone else to catch up or come along. I can do it on my own, as I have been for so long. I learned a lot from my childhood… exactly what I never want to be or want to allow. And that putting myself into a corner and crying about not being able to get out is useless and debilitating. By blaming someone else… by looking outside of yourself for a crutch… you only hand others the power to help hold you down. I could go on about how Bill destroyed my trust and faith and how he fucked my whole ability to connect fully, I could talk about how my mother single handedly made me feel like the least loved person on earth, or how my ex-husband ruined me financially, or how that one man left my heart in shards on the floor… I could blame a lot of people for sucking throughout my life. But by doing that I give them the power to say they made me. I will not. I made me. I took myself aside and made me look at what my parents really were. I made myself be different. I told myself it was okay to stop loving Joe and letting him pull me into his hole. I determine who I am, and though I learned from my past, I refuse to give it the satisfaction of being my lifelong sickness.
I have people in my life that didn’t make it out with the same feelings. They let themselves be victims. There are people no longer in my life that have let it eat them into hollowness. They are shells. Their insides are a vacuum, and the only way they know to fill the space is to attach to someone else and continue the cycle.
I miss a lot of people, but more than that I miss what I thought they would be to me. I was in love with the idea that they were going to be answers, pillars, and rocks… but they were not. They could have been… could be… but they lack the desire to be anything more than hollow. They don’t want to feel because it might hurt. They don’t want to stand on their own because they might fall. And they don’t want to be strong enough to let anyone lean on them because they might drop them. I have spent a long time handing people excuses to use so that I don’t have to see who they are. I created their handicaps in my mind so I didn’t have to walk away or give up… so I didn’t have to miss them after I let them go. But it really is what it is.
Let me just say…. It is fucking lonely when you hold people accountable, when you refuse to let them be your crutch, and when you can’t stand to watch them cripple themselves. There are so few left that want to stand on their own and be responsible for who they are… and even fewer who don’t hate you when you tell them the truth that they try so hard to ignore. Nobody wants to hear that the reason their marriage sucked was because they let the man walk all over them. They don’t want to hear that their kids hate them because they were weak and cold. They don’t want to hear that they lost their family because they spent too much time worried about themselves, or that they don’t hear from their friend so much anymore because they used or betrayed them, or that the reason they attract losers if because they feel better when they save people.
Yeah, that last one is all me. Yes, I feel better when I save people. I grew up wishing someone would save me, Laura Mae. I wished for it like you wouldn’t believe for so long. But I didn’t reach out for it, so I am partly to blame. I didn’t make someone come help, so we suffered more. So now, when I can help, I help…. Because I know someone is out there wishing someone would save them and I could be the person that never came to save me. So, I let people in that are going to take advantage of me because I see that they have a need… and I just want to help. I spent a lot of time blaming them for sucking at life enough to do me wrong… to talk behind my back… to take with no intentions of supporting me back. Even my own family… I let myself become the person who only matters when I have something to give, and not when I need even the tiniest bit of support myself. I blamed people for being shit, but I let them in.
No more. I live life for me. I give when I can because I like to, but no more rescuing those who do not want to rescue themselves or at least use the rescue for something worth while for themselves.
Life is not what is done to you…. It is what you do with it. I came from shit, got trampled, buried, and chewed up.. and I did it. I am tired of hearing others say they can’t or that someone else made it impossible. Shut the fuck up about someone else. If you want it, get it.
Now, with all that said and out of the way…
My dad sent me an email with a link in it to an article that talked about how gay/bi people were mentally ill. My real dad, the man that I admire a lot, basically sent me an email saying he thinks I am sub par. God love him, I just don’t think he realized what he was saying by sending that link. I am sure he thought he was being helpful, because he really does believe it is something that can “go away”. I just thought I would mention it because I was thinking about it.
Another thing I was thinking about… fears. I have fears. I am scared to get involved with anyone. I am scared to have a child with anyone else. I would rather have a child by myself than risk a man taking my time with my child away when we ended up splitting up down the road. My experience with my son has me scared to share my children with anyone else. I am scared to compromise again.
I am scared that I am running out of time, but I have no fucking clue while I feel that way. Why do I keep thinking I need to tell someone what to do if anything ever happens to me? Who the hell thinks about that shit when they are 28?? Why do I feel like I am not doing shit fast enough? I am scared that I lost the love of my life because I am so hell bent on owning my life that I made choices I knew they were not happy with. But fuck them if they don’t like them.
I am scared I will never have more than a couple friends. As it is, every time I turn around, I see another person who disappears when I fall down.
I want to punch people when they say their childhood was horrible and they go on to describe what sounds like heaven to me. I know it is relative and they may have felt like it sucked, but how do you not get mad when someone tries to say their lack of hugs is the same as your stomach wrenching abuse? I wish I could be more understanding, but they don’t really know hell and it isn’t fair that they think they do.
You know, it would be nice to hear from someone who really knows where I came from that I have done well. I know people have said it before, but it is different if it comes from someone who didn’t just hear stories, but saw it. Trouble is, no one saw everything. No one who really knows will ever be able to tell me that I did fucking good, because they don’t exist. THAT is the hell of going through such shit when you are a kid… that no one at all will ever know exactly where you came from enough to tell you that you did good and have it really land right where you need it to. No one is ever right there with you. It is like being in a bubble that people can touch you through and talk to you through, but it never feels like they are sharing the same air with you.
They don’t really see you. Not all of you.
They don’t see just how bad betrayal really hurts you. They don’t see how much being taken advantage of stings you. They know it is not good, but they don’t really know how bad it is for you. Someone who wears their heart on their sleeve may not carry grudges, but their bruises take longer to heal. While those who have taken advantage of them move on, they are still there trying not to bump into anything with their sore heart.
Why can’t we just hit reset and erase the game’s memory?
Why do people cling onto those that hurt them and let those who never would fall to the way-side? Why do they put those who care less about them on higher pedestals than the ones who have never let them down? Why do they think it is okay to let the people who are really there for them think that they don’t see them or care that they are there?
Why do people who blow money on stupid shit win the lottery and not the people who would use to help people? Why do strong people have to prove how strong they are all the time?
And why the hell do I have to be the person up at 230am thinking about this crap?
You have to be someone else most of the time... to save yourself the headache. But how much of the headache is saved when trying to be two people hurts your head? ... and your heart?
