I think it feels, at this point right now, like I’ve lived for forever. Not in some sense that I can remember all interesting historical escapades or I’m some legendary soothsayer…but that I’ve been around for long enough to loose the sensation and feelings of being a child. It’s hard to remember anymore about how it feels to become excited about future events. I don’t observe as much anymore. It seems my brain has become a willing participant in society to shut off parts of itself because it’s become so overwhelmed with information and assaults on my senses that it’s become too much.
Now this doesn’t seem too horrible in of itself. We know our priorities shift as we become older and experiences gain precidence over wonder. But this has, in some strange way, become bastardized for me and not only does it not work to my advantage, but suddenly I’m realizing how much to my disadvantage it’s REALLY been.
Really, the best example I can give of my thoughts is this. Think of the analogy of the football player running down the field. He tucks his head, hopes that people around him are blocking for him, as he charges towards the goal on the other side of the field. Sometimes he gets knocked on his ass, so there’s a timeout, reassessment, then everyone lines back up and the process starts all over again. I feel like I AM that football player. I’ve been charging through things my whole life that rarely do I observe from the sideline anymore. When things have bothered me, I charge forward in a blur. Just try to ask me about anything that’s bothered me in the near past…(or really in the distant past), and ask me what events transpired and how I handled it. Chances are you won’t get an answer, or at least you won’t get a decent one. I have so little memory of experiences, mostly bad, because I just want to rush through them and forget they happened. In my effort to rush through, I ignore everything pertinent, and then I repeat the same mistakes and go through the same cycle all over again.
I don’t suppose I would be writing any of this had I not had several revelations in the past several months, really…since January. Because I came from an abusive home, I sought abusive relationships. It was normal to me because it was what I was used to. It didn’t mean I liked them or that they worked out, it simply meant that was the type of relationship I gravitated towards. And it didn’t matter if it was a romantic relationship or simply a friendship.
Now abuse can be broken down in several ways. In a relationship there can be emotional abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, monetary abuse, and so on so forth. In my home life I had experienced most of those and more. The eye opener was when I went in for counseling and discovered I had post traumatic stress disorder. I thought only those who were in the military experienced that. So I was forced to re-evaluate all people I surrounded myself with. The results were tragically stunning. About 85% of my friendships were abusive in some form, whether it be using me for things they need, talking down to me in an effort to make me feel inferior, etc.
Since that point, I’ve cut out almost all of those friendships. And it’s lonely. I feel like I’m at some sort of fork in the road but don’t have a destination so I don’t know which path to take.
But on the positive side, I’ve truly started learning cues for when to stand up for myself and tell someone something really isn’t okay with me. I’ve started learning I’m a decent, good human being who IS worth the trouble some put forth and that I also deserve respect and happiness, just like all do. I used to apologize for things that weren’t my fault or responsibility to simply keep the peace. I’m learning that I can choose what sorts of people and situations I expose myself to and determine if it’s a help or a hinder. The key word here is CHOOSE. YES! CHOOSE! It may sound dippy to you, but I love that word. I have a CHOICE. It feels empowering. My counselor taught me to use that word before I did ANYTHING. It made me realize how much stake I hold in my own life.
I’m not sure why I felt the need to rattle these things off. Most don’t care to read random internet ramblings. But I felt it pertinent…so…I CHOSE to post this! In some sense perhaps, I determined that if someone happens to stumble across it and learned anything about themselves at all, it would have been worth the trouble. Already it’s made me feel better, so chalk this bad boy up to ‘definitely worth the trouble.’
Chaos Follows Me 