What am I afraid of? What drives this fear within me? What do I need to do to confront it?
I know he is lying. I have plenty of evidence. I hear it in his voice. I see the deadness in his eyes. I do not doubt my truth in this matter.
When I confront him, I begin to fear, and to shake uncontrollably with emotion. And for days after, I feel a pit of fear that makes me jumpy and anxious and unable to concentrate.
Where does this fear come from?
I really don’t care if he is acting out. I don’t love him anymore. I don’t see a future. I will spend my two years of penance time for being stupid enough to put myself in this place again, then move on.
Am I that terrified of being abandoned at a level I cannot even access? Am I that terrified of being lied to? Am I that terrified to let go my fantasy that maybe, somebody, anybody! has the capacity to grow and change and become more. Truly become more? That I may force myself into a corner where I must make and stand by a decision I am not prepared to follow through at this time? That I will be alone? That no one will meet me at my level, either way too below for me to waste more time or far too above to want me?
I face him, speaking my truth, and even though I am not afraid of him, I tremble with emotion. Even though I intellectually don’t care that he is incapable of truth and now I can actually see that face when I speak with him, I still have a cold pit in my stomach. Even though I don’t love him, hearing him tell his lies tears me apart and I can hardly think, can hardly keep my own spirit together.
Is it just the adrenalin rush? Do I miss it? Need it? Don’t I hate adrenalin, the way it makes me sick to my stomach, the way it stops me from thinking? What in my past drives me to fear, hate, and need adrenalin? How does this fear allow me to doubt, to wonder, to worry if I am right? Why would I be so afraid of being wrong that I cling to being right?
What am I afraid of? Confrontation? Standing up for what I KNOW and refusing to back down despite being rejected and possibly abandoned if I push the issue? His raising his voice? Losing my own control and going off into a rant rather than maintaining my peace and focus? What inner corrosive voice is undermining my resolve, what past earthquake of trauma destabilizing my emotions, what current wave of manipulation pulling my strength from beneath my feet? Driving me, driving me like a beast master pushing from behind, seeking answers, desparate and shaking and I can’t seem to let it go. I must let it go, let it die.
That, when it comes to the final choice, he will choose his addiction over me? And knowing that is so painful that I can barely stand it, just like my father chose his addiction over me? And my mother chose her hatred over me? And my step father chose his son over me, even my cruel mother over me? And my brothers both chose my sister over me?
Won’t anyone ever choose me, just me? DOESN’T ANYONE WANT ME??????
Is that really so important? To be validated by someone else wanting me? Why do I really care? Is it just some old wound that won’t heal and drives me in my pain? Allows me to settle for anyone who acts like they want me because I feel that no one does want me? I don’t feel I am unwantable. I feel very wantable, just no one else chooses me. If they really knew me they wouldn’t choose me? But I like me, even if I am weird. I don’t expect other people to just understand my weirdness.
I just want a friend who likes me the way I am. Someone who really loved me would be nice.
I want to stay: calm, nonconfrontational, avoiding being baited and falling into and for head games, disallowing my buttons to get pushed, staying mature in my responses, allowing him to vent, recognizing his rants and attacks and manipulations as the fear based control and maladaptive coping skill responses that they are, and staying in my personal peace, truth, and power.
So, with all rational thought, these realization, this knowledge as my grounding substance, why the HELL AM I SO AFRAID?
There will be no answers, not at this time. Maybe, dearest cosmos, we can find a way to reveal to me in a dream.
The cards confirmed he meets with women, his the kiss of death, poisonous as they entwine. I must swallow my sword, a dangerous move and one fraught with peril and personal risk, and release the genie from its bottle, following intuition and gifts of magic and choices many and varied.
At least I am crying for myself. A small rite of passage. I am feeling the pain. I am a very emotional person. Possibly emotionally unstable. I can accept that, too. I feel the pain of everyone and because I know that pain, empathize, mimic in my own being. I can open myself to feeling that pain and practice not running from it or pushing it away, like the man in the dream who was crying and one woman was repulsed and pulled away, and I held his hands while he cried and was soft and open and kind. It may appear weak, but I must be who I am, deeply emotional, deeply passionate, deeply connected even when it hurts terribly. Because it does hurt terribly.
He has already chosen. He has chosen the addiction and to try and keep me on the side.
I can choose to accept that and treat him with a sad kindness. He didn’t make himself this way. He wasn’t born this way. But he keeps choosing this way, and I choose not to be with him this way.
I guess I have to choose me first and foremost and be true to myself about that. My gift, and my curse. Bittersweet, but I feel the joy behind accepting that this is who I really am, warts and all.
Easier said than done.
At least I don’t feel so afraid right now.