Bit broken down and whatnot, but was encouraged by a dear soul to write anyway…. (thank you, my friend!)

Reflecting lately on hindsight…wondering why foresight can’t be 20/20??  And contemplating second chances..who gets them?  Under what circumstances should a 2nd chance not be granted?  Pit party mode:  Why can’t I be in the good graces of 2nd chances, anyway?  Some get so very many “2nd” chances, while rarely get one…..

Obviously, I fall into the “no 2nd chances” category for whatever reason…the higher powers that be have deemed me unworthy of such grace…  and within that frame, I swallow the bitter lesson that perhaps it is not better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?  I mean, who said that anyway?  Whoever it was certainly had more grace and gratitude than I! 

Losing a love is excruciatingly painful…and after all, before you’ve loved, you can’t even know what you’re missing, so…hmmm……??

No, I have decided I would rather not have loved at all….  Would I miss all the beautiful memories of being loved, feeling loved, figuring out what love is?    Oh yeah…but I’d not know that I missed it at all, so better off, I believe I’d be!

On the other hand, were I more gratefully graceful, I could confess that I have once been loved deeply and far beyond my expectations.  Perhaps I just wasn’t ready for something so huge?  I sure didn’t know how to appreciate it fully or accept it as reality until it was long gone from my life.  So, instead, I spent 2 years in bliss I never fathomed prior and three years desperately trying to make up for losing it…beating myself up every inch of the way, as though that might make me worthy of a second chance….

No such luck.  No second chances.  Just vivid, painful hindsight and sweet memories that sting with the heartache of that hindsight.  Memories which haunt my every waking (and sleeping!) hour.  Memories that tear at my soul, rip at my self worth and shred  my ability to forgive myself my erroneous errors.

I’d like to think that perhaps it wouldn’t have lasted even if I hadn’t erred………….but that’s not something I can convince myself of because the evidence proves it would have…  Evidence shows it was the greatest, purest chance at love that I may ever have…and I couldn’t see that until it was too late….  And hard as Humpty tried to put it together again, alas, it could not be done…. Too little…too late..ahhh cliche’…

Maybe there’s only one chance at such depths of love, in order to learn that second chances aren’t a given in any situation, so I’d better get it right the first time from now on…if there’s ever another chance to demonstrate what I’ve learned from this experience….  Haha… I suppose it’s called once in a lifetime love because the opportunity comes only once…..

Yes, I would most definitely erase every beautiful memory, so I could live blissfully in ignorance of what love can be…and pooh-pah in hindight’s hateful mean face!

However, as that is not an option, instead, I get to trudge on, hoping it all makes sense someday….and hanging onto everyv possible shred of hope that nothing is ever final…until it’s final…

3 days

It’s been three days without writing.  It was nice to have company and he is delightful….  and I also always feel a little lost when I go that amount of time without writing and attempting to organize and express my thoughts…

Feeling all sorts of strange things….extremely sad about Dave…afraid…worried….excited….empty….

Friends over last night.  Funny I feel mostly the same things about that situation too.  Like I want so much to protect them and also desperately protect myself from them.  It is hard to accept and face all the things Dave tried to tell me and especially hard without the safety of him to buffer the bruising of my innocence falling.

I do not know how to love anyone else.   I do not know how to perceive less than perfection…perfect fit…perfect understanding….the perfect piece.  Everything else feels too scary to even try and even the pieces that seem like they might fit better than most still don’t fit just like that.  I do not know how I will ever fully recover.  I repeatedly tell myself it is possible; that it will happen in time…more and more time.  And I get the strangest sense that I’m lying to myself with every reassurance.  I can’t possibly tell myself it won’t happen  and lying to myself is frustrating in itself.

It is possible.  It will happen in time.  It has to.

Emotional Rescue

Emotional rescue.  Is this what I want?  Have I been waiting for this since I was three years old?  Is this what happens when the people who are supposed to care for you don’t care, except to punish and abuse?  I’ve no interest in being a victim.  I really don’t see the glamour in that situation.  Victim is a state of mind that I do not want to have.  Yet, I feel like a victim when I’m powerless over myself and my life; powerless over my emotions; restrained by various circumstances which seem beyond my control.

I am boxed in tightly by these things.  If I attempt to see the box I live in as one of my own making/choices, then I can free myself with different ones…right?  It doesn’t seem so.  I get excited when I convince myself of this and head out to free myself, only to realize I have chains holding me to the box.  The fact that the chains are invisible ( most likely mental and emotional) does not make them any less chains.  They’re only more binding and frustrating because no one can see them…. even me.  But I sure as heck can feel them the minute I try to escape…SNAP around my ankles as I try to walk in a new direction.  SNAP around my neck when I try to turn around.  SNAP…SNAP…SNAP!  Then I fall down and I cry from frustration and the pain, but no one hears me because no one is in the box with me.  (Thank God for that!)

I talked to Greg a little last night about these things.  Don’t know if I scared him off or not, but maybe I was trying to?  I do not want anyone else to get hurt in this.  And until I find a way to free myself, why would I be so cruel as to let anyone else come close to my prison box?  Three years (or is it 30?) in here alone sure is getting more and more lonely and frustrating and I distinctively feel that with every minute that passes, my chains to him only tighten and grow stronger.  If I’ve isolated myself out of fear of hurting anyone else, then where do I go when I’m lonely?  Who do I turn to and “depend” on for comfort?  My prison keeper!  Making him and my dependence on him more and more powerful…and me weaker and weaker, in the victim mode I so detest and do not respect.

I read about Iboga (sp?) therapy for treatment of addiction and psychological blocks.  There is a treatment center in Vancouver.  It sounds a little dangerous, definitely radical and certainly expensive as it’s not covered by insurance, so the feasibility of this is small.  I discussed briefly with Mark and he says maybe we should start saving for it.  It’s not like it’s urgent since I’ve been in this box for so long already and I’m still breathing with a faint, but persistent heart beat.

Gosh, I’m fortunate to have Mark!  I couldn’t ask for anyone better for myself and my daughters.  In everything, from everything, I am so very blessed in so many ways.  Why is it so hard to see that sometimes?  Things could be so much worse than complaining about my pathetic chains and the ridiculous box I somehow continue to choose to live in.

I am blessed.

Sad lessons I learn over and over and over….

Have a terrible headache and just discovered that my “best” friend stole my prescription…along with a few other small items not worth mentioning.  After a million warning signs and perpetual untruths from this person (and so many others from my past), I have to wonder what the hell is wrong with me?  Will I ever be able to put aside my silly notion that people are true and honest and start listening to the 501 red flags my gut gives me in the guise of that “sinking feeling”?  Am I just that desperate to believe in people that I will forever allow myself to be taken advantage of?  Good heavens, I am NOT this stupid!  But apparently I AM stubborn as all get out and won’t ever give up on someone who pretends to be kind (and surprisingly always needy, as well) until they have smacked me with the truth repeatedly.

Dave tried so hard to get me to believe this ugly truth and my unwillingness certainly helped along our demise.  Was that NOT enough for me to learn this lesson?

And why on earth am I still so freakishly surprised and oh my gosh….. hurt??????!!??  It’s interesting that I’m somewhat numb to the disappointment, but I can never seem to shake taking it personally and feeling hurt by someone I embraced  that proves to be as bad, or maybe worse, than the rest of them.   I do understand enough to know that it’s not personal, these people clearly have big issues which have nothing at all to do with me and they only trample across me in order to meet some hidden agenda, again which is most likely unrelated to anything personal toward me…  Yes, I realize this, but still, it’s so hard for my heart to not take it personally!

I debated on whether to even write about this, as it’s happened to me so often in one form or another, that I feel embarrassed even to an audience who doesn’t know the frequency of this occurrence…nor fully understands my irritating and ridiculous naivete.  However, I am so hurt, that I can’t help but to write.  What on earth is wrong with people?  Myself included in this question?  It takes two for this to happen.  I had to give this person access to my faith in them, access to my home,  and a little bit of access to my heart in order for them to have the opportunity to take advantage.  I am so utterly disappointed in myself….

I deeply fear that I  will never learn.