I am going to do my best to describe exactly what is going on in and out of my body right now. Anxiety and depression are a silent killer. I don’t care what people say, I am slowly dying. I’ve been calling it my slow and silent suicide. It all began the moment I stepped out of the shower this morning.
I had an appointment at the local DSHS office today to assess for disability and medical coverage. I hadn’t even gotten out of my car yet, and the sweating started. I open the doors and enter the facility, the shaking starts. I’m nauseated, dizzy and panicky feeling. I feel like I need to run away. I’m sitting there in a wave of people, loud kids, trying really hard not to lose my insides all over the lobby. I literally feel like I’m exploding from the inside out.
I’m called up to the counter, I can’t even state my name. I’m in such an anxiety ridden body that I’m talking too quietly. In my head the voices are telling me, “everyone’s listening”… “everyone knows your business.” This alone causes more shakes. I begun to wring my hands together, rubbing the corners of my thumb cuticles raw.
I get through the interview, get back to my car and immediately break down. I’m cry like a frightened child. I cried the whole 14 miles back home. I entered home, immediately enter the bathroom and puke.
This… this is not living.
This… is not quality of life.
This… is a portion of who I used to be.
All the while, the other half of my mind’s voices are telling me, “This is not who you are. Get over it. Buck up and learn to live again. Get out of this funk.”
I am literally split. I’m black and I’m white. I’m yin and yang. It’s too intense for me. What the hell is wrong with me. I miss who I was before meeting the abuser. I miss that life. I miss the job, the friends, the social. I hate this. I hate me. I hate this life now.
In my last post, I had mentioned some comments my aunt said about men, dating, love and more. One of her comments stayed with me., so much so I couldn’t figure out how or why I felt the previous blog was unfinished. I’ve let it marinate on the tip of my mind, formulate through my fingers, and now I am ready to write and process through it.
The comment that she said, that has stuck with me since she said it, was, ” The guys you meet on the internet are predators nothing more. They prey on women who have low self esteems and then manipulate you and hurt you. They simply aren’t worth it.”
Really? Just men on the internet? Sure, I can guarantee that there are cretins on the internet. Hell, I’ve met a few. But, all men on the internet are predators? I am really bothered by this generalization. I have met a substantial amount of incredible, giving, loving people from the internet; men and women alike. I guess the biggest reason this bothers me is because… she’s a victim; as my mother, and as myself.
She was preyed upon by men (multiple men) she met through work, life, friends. She has had an abnormal amount of abusive men in her life. But, she never met one of them off the internet; not a single one. Same goes with my mother. Same goes with me. I have had four (five if you count this last one that lasted all of four months) influential, soul developing sexual/love relationships in my life.
My first unsavory relationship I met through friends. I was 18, fresh out on my own and met this guy who turned into an abusive, mean spirited, mouthy s.o.b. My second, my son’s father, ended up being a lying drug addict. Although he didn’t abuse me in any sense, he still was a ‘winner’. I also met him through a friend. My third, my one and only marriage so far, was domineering, money controlling, controlling and emotionally abusive. I met him in in junior high, through a friend. My fourth imperative relationship I met on the internet. He’s the subject of massive abuse that I’ve written about on my blog.
My fifth, if you want to count him, was not abusive, in any way, shape or form. He loved me fully, and with the best of his abilities. I was the broken one by that point. I was the one too distraught and depressed to be anything viable. I met him on the internet.
The only reason I’m going down my list of ‘men’ in my life is to show that men who prey, prey regardless of their platform. Women who become victims, do so no matter there station in life; no matter their path, no matter their socioeconomic status, no matter period. For my aunt to be so judgmental of the method in which a person finds love is so wrong. Love will happen. Hurt will happen. Abuse, will happen too.
A victim needs to learn what aspects about themselves that makes them an easy targets for abusers in order to change their path so they do not become victims again.
I understand she’s about 25+ years my senior. I understand her life has brought her hell, that she’s carried as a burden upon her back like a mule carrying passengers. I get that she’s been hurt as well. But, I kindly ask her to let me live learn on my own; just as she has.
This does not mean that I am looking for love again; not now, not in the near future, not at all. But, I refuse to kill what small glimmer of hope that love does exist inside of me. Isn’t this what love is about? Isn’t this what life is about? Trying, trying and trying again?
It doesn’t have to be about love and relationships alone. Try life. Try friendship. Try trust. Try hope.
Just try. It’s all we have. To be there for ourselves. To be there for others. To fill our lives with what makes us smile, feel alive, feel happiness. No one has the right to demean or belittle another’s process. No one, no matter how hurt or bruised their soul is, has a right to convince another to give up.
We all hurt. We all have been shattered, broken and thrown out. We have all cried out for help. We are all alike.
Live and let live.
I will be the first to say that I am in no shape, no way, no want of a new love in my life. But, I am still healing and processing this last very painful heartbreak. I have no desire to find a mate right now. No desire to put myself out there. However, I don’t want to become bitter towards love. I am a dreamer. Just as the gif above says, I have an idea of love in my head. It does not make me wrong, or inept, or unworthy in ANY WAY! I want to nourish and flourish what is already deep inside of me. I do not want to bury myself behind fear and anger.
I had a friend say to me recently, “I feel something. It’s small but I think I feel as if you’re feeling a little better. It’s like a cinder, but there is potential to blaze up.” I can only wish that this ember is burning, and will ignite with fully ready to. I want to hold onto that flame of hope that I feel is slowly dying with each dawning morning. I’m impatient and pushy, I want it now. Here’s why I want it now:
I see my mom, 60+ years old and alone. She’s completely given up on the prospect of love, life and pursuing anything that may actually bring her joy.I do not want to morph into the same person she is. I have hope, and I don’t want that hope crushed.
My aunt said to me, “You get involved, the relationship hits a stale mate because there isn’t enough in it to sustain it, then you create chaos to reaffirm your already existing feelings of inadequacy.” This last relationship did not hit a ‘stale mate’. It hit a wall of depression. It hit a cross roads of two people from varying avenues in life, with two very radical views of love, dreaming, future and hopes. Doesn’t make him wrong, just makes him very wrong for me. I hope he finds who he’s looking for; a woman that can nourish and grow with his “day to day” ideals.
Then she said, “Stop trying to create a nuclear family with men who don’t give a shit about you. It won’t change.” She couldn’t be far from the truth. I also find it rather insulting that she would make blank statements that crush whatever dream I have brewing within me. Her life has been filled with creating nuclear families with men who do not care. She’s truly projecting onto me her own inadequacies. That’s her burden to bare, not mine.
There is nothing wrong with being a woman who wants love. We all deserve love. But most importantly, I deserve to love myself.
“Searching all directions
with one’s awareness,
one finds no one dearer
In the same way, others
are fiercely dear to themselves.
So one should not hurt others
if one loves oneself.” – Thanissaro Bhikkhu
The gist of this quote, which is often misquoted as being a Buddha quote, “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”
In the end, I am thankful for each of my horribly broken relationships. I am even thankful for my bent, broken self. I can only learn and grow from here. I can only take what has happened and process it in a manner that will benefit my love life, my life, and what I can contribute.
I never hid who I was; fully. I never tried to keep buried the emotional mess I am. I have a friend who used to use the name, “Beauty in the Breakdown”, at that time I didn’t really ‘get’ it. Now, at this juncture in my life, I totally get it.
When we were together, I never hid “me”. I was somewhat accused of being emotionally unavailable. After we spoke last night, however, I believe he was somewhat emotionally unavailable.
He relayed to me last night he would have married me. He informed me that he had actually seen a future with me, us.. together. His words, “Because, I’m a dumb ass? I tried.. I know I failed. I see that. But I did try. I was too fucking stupid to express it properly… what a douche’.”
Naw, really??? You think? He spent months trying to convince me that he doesn’t live for the future, he’s a carpe’ diem type of guy. Seize the day, live for today only. “I don’t attach to the future like that. I don’t have those kinds of dreams.” I literally heard this from him. THIS was our BIGGEST failing. I’m a woman and with that comes the territory of hopes and dreams. We live for the “ooey gooey” romantic bullshit. Why do you think romantic comedies are such a great fucking genre’ of films? Women… Dream.
But he tells me now?? NOW?? He backs it up with, “I can’t, I won’t and I don’t want to go back to that with you.”
So you love me, but you don’t.
You wanted a future with me, but you didn’t.
You think I’m this “awesome incredible chick”, but not enough so to fight through whatever the breakdown in our communications were.
I was promised a safe house to work through my emotional turmoil that sat upon my shoulders like the world on Atlas’. I was promised “home” to land at after spreading my wings for growth. But then you panicked and bailed. You panicked and pulled back. You panicked and “let me go” as you say. I don’t see it as letting me go. I feel a bunch of broken promises from a man who scared himself with the reality of actually settling down, finding true love and threw it away when it became too real.
Now, in the end, and in my healing process, I get to look back and realize that there is some emotional dysfunct on his end too. But I don’t hate him. I don’t even dislike him. I’m still very much in love with him, and every other man (if I date ever again) when compared will be found lacking in so many ways. Two very broken souls, from two very broken homes with two very broken love pasts, are not set forth in attempting to do it all again.
But I am thankful for him, in keeping true to my blog’s actual theme of gratitude. I am thankful for him. I learned, after the two year abusive partner, that I AM worthy of love. I am worth being completely in love with someone. That eventually, I will be loved unconditionally. I will receive support when needed, from someone who wants to genuinely gift it to me. I am beautiful, and there are people who do love me regardless of height, weight, size, intelligence.
I thank him for the love he was able to give, in the best manner he knew how.