Thoughts from a Weird, Strange, Funny Girl
So last night I had one of the worst case of self pity I have had in a long time.
It started… well… I’m not quite sure how it all began but, I was just laying in bed, trying to sleep and all these ugly thoughts started popping up in my head. Questions about my past, how I wrongly treated people and how they wrongly treated me. But mostly more of the former than the later. I couldn’t help but over analyze over every single mistake I have made in my life and how much different my life would be if I had only done things differently.
Of course there was a quiet voice inside of me, in the back of my head, that kept repeating that the past is the past and there is nothing I can do to change it and that I can only focus on who I am today. True. But it didn’t make me feel better. If anything I continued to wallow worse. I kept thinking about what an awful person I was, all the people I’ve hurt, lied to or stole from. I kept wondering what was wrong with me, that I kept self sabotaging myself and pushing people away. Basically I felt like a freak.
Thankfully my boyfriend, Monkey, has a sixth sense or something every time that I am upset and kept coming in the bedroom to check on me. At first I played it off, I turned the light off so he couldn’t see my tears or blotchy bloated red eyes. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to hide this side of me from him, I just knew I was being ridiculous, over dramatic and emotional and I didn’t want to cause a scene with him. If anything I knew he was the one person who I could understand the pain I was going through. I just wanted to let myself be indulgent and be miserable.
But like any smart man, he wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t hide my tears from him, even with the lights off. I was midway through writing a very ridiculous blog post about what an awful person I was when I couldn’t hold back my feelings from him any longer. I broke down and told him every thing. Most of it were issues we had talked about many times before but I don’t know if he knew how much it affected me, practicality eating my soul. How guilty I felt.
And as we talked, Monkey made me look at the other perspective. For as much as I felt I hurt others, they were no saints themselves. For instance, my one other relationship with a man named Tony, has haunted me for many years. In the end I know I was in the wrong for not only cheating on him but not letting him go entirely. I might not have been in love with him after I broke it off but I still very much loved him (a part of me always will) and thought I knew what was best for him. So I held on when I should have let go… for years if I’m being really honest with myself. But… he wasn’t a saint to me either and hurt me in many, many ways. Tony never stood up for me, letting others verbally walk over me, including his own family. He constantly lied to me and there were many times he put his own family before me, even after we were together for seven years. I felt like I would always come last to him, even if we were married and had childen. He might have told me he loved me more than anything but his actions said otherwise. At the end of seven years we had reached a point where we could no longer afford our own place any longer and had to move back in with our parents. He not only didn’t fight for me to be able to stay with his family, he wouldn’t live with mine who would have taken him in. So there we were, back to square one and three hundred miles apart. A few months and enough distance was just what it took for me to wake up and say, I deserve better! There were always excuses of course, but that’s what they were, excuses. I still feel to this day if he had really loved me, he would have moved heaven on earth to be with me instead of my whole life revoling around him and his family. In the end they were the freak show circus and I was the one who in their eyes would never be good enough to be apart of their show.
There are other instances like this that had me crying, hating myself and questioning my self worth for years. Like why? Why was it I let myself become manipulated to feeling like I wasn’t worth the sun to shine out of my ass when I knew it did. I couldn’t understand why I let people not only make me the villain but, make me believe it too. Sure I may not have been able to best express myself and what I was feeling and there by not handling situations as best as I could but why should l constantly write myself as the bad guy? I might make really bad mistakes but I can always say I had my own reasons for doing them, even if I couldn’t understand why at the time.
I would like to make a joke and blame it all on Disney, teaching me that everything should not only have a happy ending but everyone get along in the end. And if I were a religious person I would say that the Lord knows that I’ve tried. I have tried again and again to be a better person, prayed for patience and forgiveness and friendship. Only to be slapped in the face in rejection repeatedly and forcing myself to turn the other cheek.
I’d like to say that I am done with my past and ready to really let it go. And I’m working on it. I like to some day write a list of amends for my own personal soul and maybe explain or try to talk to the people about them… or maybe I never will, I don’t know. But I will stop letting myself be the villain in my own book, and I will make myself believe that I am deserving of forgiveness and love. And that anyone who has a problem with it, is their own responsibility to bare.