Chances are

Chances are people don’t change. Chances are always likely that past behavior is an indicator of future behavior.  Giving the benefit of the doubt in a situation I am dealing with lately continues to result in a feeling of having my heart ripped out and then set on fire in front of me.  They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I feel guilty as charged with that lately.  A nightmare loop tape I keep entertaining.  Strength is a hard thing to grasp at times.  In some respects holding on shows strength, while other times it is the letting go that shows the most strength.  I had a moment of clarity a few days ago, amid tears so heavy I could barely see the sheet of paper in front of me, I took out a red pen and wrote simply:

 ‘I never want to feel this way again.’    
In that moment I knew only one thing, the feeling in my stomach, as though all of my insides had gone bad, the feeling of complete betrayal, and the literal pain in my heart, made me contemplate some very scary thoughts, were not worth the efforts I’ve been putting forth.  It is not worth it to hope and to continually be made to feel as though the mere act of existing is a burden and a right I barely deserve. Faith can get you killed sometimes. I feel like I’ve died a few hundred times in the last few months. It’s as though I feel an emotional or relational ‘rock bottom’ and I come to find out there’s another level below as the floor is blown out from under me.  This post won’t have much of a feel good nature to it, I have nothing to give of myself at the moment.  I’ve been stretching the lifelines thrown by my friends to their absolute limit lately, and I feel I owe it to them along with myself to get to saving my soul and sanity. One decision means hurting someone I don’t think actually experiences any deep feelings, and another decision means cutting myself open continually on the whim that it might all work out.  What used to be a bonfire of passionate energy feels like a rain soaked ember. Lately, I am that rain soaked ember.   

I know that’s not the me that I want the world to experience, it’s also not the me that I myself want to embody.  I know one thing, the way I felt, I never want to feel that way again.  Ever.  

I was gonna, but then you…

I was just sent a text of this nature and it cut me in two.  A nice gesture was proposed in a text. that text also contained the reason that the nice gesture wasn’t going to be done, the reason and justification for nixing the nice gesture was nothing in which I myself personally had any say.  

As I have recently learned, this constitutes abuse. 

This. Is. Abuse. I can not believe I am admitting that.  Even recognizing it as such, doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.  We are so willing to forgive and forgive those we love who show us a smattering of love but lack any and all consistency.  The ever present worry of stepping wrong is exhausting and unfair.  This is emotional terrorism, and I continue to allow it to happen.  I am making the choice to allow this torture to continue.  I could ask what the fuck is wrong with me, but I continue to search out just what it is that’s pulling me back to someone whose behaviors make me feel like nothing. Perhaps it’s that I am used to the abuse? That has become my normal?  As the victim always seems to do, I keepforgiving the abuser, when I’ve done nothing to deserve to be treated or made to feel this way.

  The sad part is I talk to talk to friends, were I to learn they are tolerating this, would I stand for it? Hell no.  I would pull them aside, give them a loving but stern talking to, and encourage them that they deserve better.  For the last 5-10 minutes I’ve repeated statements such as ‘I am worthy of love’, ‘I am enough’,’I have value’. I am both shocked and appalled I am actually saying these things to myself in reference to something that should at its top priority, never make me need to say these things to myself.  I’m sure others in these situations feel trapped as well. How do we know when to say when? The hammer is swinging today, and I’m keeping a hand on the handle and not doing anything to stop the beating…. 

What is wrong with me?