Friday 13th B-Log


OK, I recognize that I allowed it because deep down, I deserved to be punished.  Really?  Only insofar as everyone has a dark, guilty side that believes they should be better, be perfect. 

Umbridge be damned.

I was so used to being manipulated and controlled and being allowed no affection, no support, no nurturing, that I expect so little, and demand so little, that is exactly what I get.  You act controlling?  How would I know the difference?  You want to treat me like shit?  Wow, that is the least shit I have ever been treated like!  You must REALLY love me!  Oh, right, until I find out just how much you really HATE me, and take ADVANTAGE of me, and WALK ALL OVER ME, and are WILLING TO HURT ME TERRIBLY.  Willing to see me die, crush me so someone else gets to feel all powerful.  Abuse, abusive, abuser.  Just like everyone else.

Ya know?  I am really sick of it.  All of it.

So, I have sold myself short because I was always being sold short.  I was taught to mistrust my instincts, to ask for little, to go unheard, and still I survived. 

I survived.

I even thrived.

And I deserve better.

I became better than those that birthed me.  I am stronger, more loving, more honest with myself.  Unfortunately, I didn’t figure out how to know the difference between real loving behavior towards me, what I was allowed to expect and demand from someone who claims to care about me, where to draw that damnable line, versus just getting by on crumbs.

I am a real, tough survivor, to have learned to survive, even thrive, on old, stale dirty bits of cracker crumb.

But ya know, dearest darling mine, I really would like to have a feast, once in a while.  I would like to sit at my table, and pour my love out into the world, and see the world around me glow with health.  I cannot do that if I am waiting around for someone else’s crumbs to fly out the car window like cigarette butts flung on their way down rush-rush highway.

I am starving, floundering in the sea with weak, wavering, ineffectual swimmy strokes.  Of course the sharks come chummy.  Of course the vultures, or worse, sea gulls, gather.  Of course I feel fear and impending doom.

Maybe I should have studied to be a breatharian.  Maybe then I could live on rarefied air alone, and thrive.

So, how the hell am I supposed to get my shit so very together that I only attract the kind of people I want, and not the abusive losers I keep getting?  The mystery deepens.  Maybe not attract, again, so much as put up with, allow, not be smart enough to say ‘uh, hell no, jackwipe.’ 

At least, I see the portal out of hell.  I feel stronger.  Will I have moments of doubt?  Am I missing something larger?  Am I lacking compassion?  Well, am I being manipulated into worrying that I am?

Um, I am asking questions.  Isn’t that a deadly sign I’m being tricked again?  Maybeee.  But, duh, I always ask questions.  I don’t believe in perfect, easy answers.  Simple, though, yeah, sometimes that just sums it up.

KISS!

Because, really, it does all boil down to choices.  Down to values.  Internet porn as addictive?  So what?  It is the man who is choosing to watch it in the first place.  His values, low as they are, are showing.  Aren’t we all damaged and wounded by some child hood horror, small or large?  So what?  It is the choice we make in how we allow ourselves to treat other people, now, that is our truth.  Aren’t we all just superneurotic apekind, building our hives and twisting our instincts and fighting for our resources?  So what?  That is an excuse to beat up on each other?  Or are we just so bored with life that we infight and abuse each other and make up cruel games because we haven’t anything better to do?  Idle hands and all that?  Well, idle hands…. minds, lusts, values on idle, values in the gutter, hate and excuses….

Choices.

I choose….. for me.

log book: 

He wants to say something is missing from the picture.  He put thoughts in my head about why I was being silent after he asked if I had something else to say.  Last night he was trying to be ‘nice’, maybe thoughtful, but something still felt off, sort of slimy.  Manipulative.  Still feeling like ‘if I say it just right, she will give me everything I want, I will have found that kinder, gentler sort of controlling someone else.’  (Not entirely his fault, I suppose, since he was raised with a father who completely ran over his mother, made her trauma bond with him, for whom he had no respect and no boundaries and no compassion.  But to pretend to be a nice guy while lying the whole time, what he actually did throughout this ‘marriage’, that sums up the cruelty and selfishness and hate in his value system.)

I am prone to that myself,  I know, that desire to control gently, yet be controlling still.  The outcome I most desire.  Having children can do that to a person, too.  I have been working mostly consciously for twenty years NOT to act that way.  To try and find that balance between my needs, someone else’s needs, while minimizing my attempts to manipulate to my benefit, or justify that something I ask or give to someone else while really only benefiting myself.  And if I think that is what I am doing, or have done, I try to own up to it, so that I may be doing it, but if the other person is aware maybe they have a chance to truly choose for themselves.  Am I more manipulative than I care to admit.  Damn, don’t doubt it.  Am I out to abuse someone else to make myself feel better?  I have crossed boundaries.  And when people told me about it, I thought long and hard about it.  And I worked to become better.  So, no, I am not truly abusive.  I have made mistakes, and done my best to learn from them and not repeat them.  Unfortunately, due to this I have been manipulated by way of and into second guessing myself.  Mother’s influence again, so afraid to be her that I am afraid to be myself. 

Remember, dear, you were trying in good faith to be honest and caring, even when you didn’t really feel like it.  He wasn’t.  He lied and manipulated and deceived from the getgo, so his intent was selfish and distorted always.  Be kind to yourself, you did NOTHING to deserve this abuse but not be cognizant enough to run like hell.

Aw, well, no use beating myself up about it.  I have flaws.  I am still a basically good human being, who strives to be mindful and caring and nonabusive to others.  I have a long way to go, but by my measuring of my own success, I have done pretty well.

I just wish, for my own happiness, I had done better at finding a partner to share my life with.  I still can’t seem to get that right, and don’t even know how I keep going so wrong. 

It is better to have loved and lost, then never loved at all?

What about never having been loved?

Who cares, I mean really?

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