Pride

 A friend recently lovingly chastised me, "Take a fucking compliment!" I told him, quite simply, "Look. I told you I was broken AF. I have issues." 

While that's true. He's right. I should be able to take a simple compliment. I should have pride in what I have done. 

And I do. 

I AM proud that I have worked my butt off while in the middle of brain fog with COVID, working, and moving my son to NYC and still managed to pull off an A in my class. I am extremely proud of that. So why can't I just say THANK YOU and accept that compliment? Why is that so hard for me to do? It should not be. 

Yet in the midst of everything I've done, that just seems like doing what I need to do. What I have to do. What I must in order to finally get to the part of my life where I can survive on my own. For me? That's not a point of pride. That's what I MUST do. And I cannot let myself settle in the good things like ONE A until I have finished. 

Because I'm scared that I won't. 

That's it. That's what this is all about. 

It's fear. 

So much has slowed me down or stopped me up until now and even made what I have done this far difficult...that I'm terrified I won't be able to finish. 

I'm scared of what tomorrow holds that I can't yet see. 

I still can't be at peace. 

And I hate that. 

But he is right. I should be proud that DESPITE everything? I DID this. 

And you know what? While doing it? I started exercising again after I recovered from COVID and I have made an effort to place my sleep as a priority...which is something I tend to neglect first. I should be proud of ALL of these things. 

I should give myself credit. 

It is OKAY to give myself credit. It's okay to be proud of myself. 

Right?

I'm so broken. *sigh*

Control

Such a small word.  With such great power.

And anger. 

What people will do to themselves...and to the ones they say they love...for control.

All in the name of being in control.

The irony is that when you come to that place...the place where you have to fight and be mean to get "control"...is the point at which you have lost it most. 

And even if you DO get it, you're only getting symbolic control.  You're not getting respect or trust with that ill-gotten control.  There's no pride in having control that was feebly handed to you in fear.  You've just got control.  And fear.

Like Hitler.

You're a dictator who has control only because people were afraid to not give it to you.  They were afraid to not submit.  They are resentful of your demand for "control".

And that's not real control.  It's the illusion of control.

There's no respect in that control.  No trust.  Only fear.

Why fight so hard for that?

But...

This is so hard.

It's a cycle.  The pain.  The hurt.  The verbal abuse.

It continues.

Then there's an apology.  And I forgive.  We move on.

Like it never happened.

Except it did.  Again.  And again.  And again.

When is enough, enough?  Will it ever be?

I want to do what's right.  I want to honor the vows I made. 

I still love him.

But...

There's a "but".

And that scares me.

Insomnia

Tired. Can't sleep. Why does the pain never end. I feel so worthless. Scared of living. Don't want to face more pain.

The quiet. It's eery. No one awake but me.  Lights are off. Feels like it's closing in. Will I ever find the escape?

Just hold me. Tell me it's alright. Tell me we're going to be okay.

Don't leave me here. Left behind. Don't make me waste another day.

Their little hearts. So precious. So afraid I've done them wrong.

I need to reach them. Pull them close. I'm afraid it's already too late.

Eyes are drooping. Sleep is coming. Will write again another day.

Two Years Later

Here we are.  Two years later.  (Well...two weeks shy of two years over...but close enough.)  The point is, we're still here.  Together.  It hasn't been easy.  In fact, there have been times when I really, really wanted to throw in the towel.  There were times when I wondered if it would ever get better.

I think at first, a part of me stayed because I didn't think I deserved better.  Then, I realized I DO deserve better...and began to expect HIM to be that "better".  Then, I had to step back and evaluate who was really in control.  Who really deserved what.  What I actually deserve, what he actually deserves...is the pit of hell.  We're both sinners.  We're both saved by grace.  How could I be so presumptuous to think that I deserved perfection when I couldn't give that myself?

This has been an incredible learning experience.  Growing. Slowly.  One day at a time.  I can pin point for you when certain things got better.  The porn.  The anger.  I can pinpoint where the angry times didn't happen as often; but were much worse when they did happen.  I still feel like that now sometimes.  It doesn't happen as often, but when it does...it's much worse than it had been before.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about physically abusive anger. Not at all.  I'm just talking about the anger of pride and self-righteousness; which has come from both of us.  I think a HUGE reason that the problems now seem so much more magnified is because I'm NOT just laying down and taking it; so to speak.  I'm not shutting up after awhile just to get the fight gone.  I'm pushing through; trying to make it to the end of the fight...with both of us...all of us...still in one piece.

To say that this has been hard is an understatement.  From what I've seen and heard, I don't doubt that it would have been MUCH easier to throw in the towel; to give up the fight. 

Much easier. 

I was never one to take the easier road, though.  Ever.  I've always been the one to take on the challenge; knowing that things can be much better on the other end if we can get there.

We're still trying; fighting...to get to the other end.  Fighting like mad.  (And sometimes feeling like we've all gone mad.)  And I still feel like it's worth it.  And still battling my fear that he doesn't.

Fear.  Yeah.  That's a huge one for me.  A huge horse...for another post.  I think that's my biggest personal battle right now.  Dealing with my fear...my fear of what could be...if... 

I don't like "what-ifs". 

I don't like unknowns. 

I like to know.  I like to feel like I at least have the illusion of control.  Which is why something like this is so hard for a person like me.  You lose all illusions.  There's no question that you're no longer in control.  Which I'm sure is a good thing...but is really hard for someone like me.

Another New, Old Post

As I previously explained, I'm releasing posts that I wrote some time ago but never posted. Given the nature of this blog, I am posting them as of the day I orginally wrote them. Here's another from October 2008.

Looking Back Again...

Yet another look back. We started counseling.