It Won't Be Long Now...

Diving straight into it today, I thought I'd speak a little bit about past and present relationships in my life. While I haven't had any romantic ones, I have plenty of experience with platonic friendships (some of which I wish turned into more, we'll get into that another time).

I have this habit of not being able to let go of the past. It's something that I think I'll have to work on for a long time to come. It's just so difficult to accept the reality of a situation and that I truly have no control over the outcome. I wish that I had some modicum of decision-making, but it really is all up to an accumulation of the dynamics between me and the other person. Everything that led to a peaceful or explosive falling out, though mine tend to lean towards explosive. It's like I can't accept the end of a relationship to be gentle. It has to absolutely gut me to the point where there's no other choice but to end things. Otherwise I will keep pouring myself into it, no matter the pain I'm inflicting upon myself, and in turn, the other person.

I have high expectations. This is something that I know well about myself. I expect the other person to live up to the image that I've built of them in my head. I was recently reading When You're Ready, This is How You Heal by Brianna Wiest. In it she describes how building such expectations limit the relationships you can form. You are altering their reality and comparing them to the version that exists only in your mind. The one that understands you to your core, knows how to avoid upsetting you, and values your existence in their life. This is not to say that your friend does not recognize these things, but not to the degree that you may wish. This is something that you need to communicate to one another, and if they are not willing to provide it, you will have to "... either embrace people for who they truly are in this moment or decide to limit the presence they have in [your life]" (Wiest, 94). "Because when we assume that everyone is required to be who we think they should be, we place limitations on them, and we ultimately just make ourselves frustrated and resentful" (Wiest, 93). I could not have described it better. Resentment is a constant theme in my relationships. I get angry and hurt when someone acts 'out of character' or in general makes a decision that results in me being upset.

I had one friend that was my everything. We understood each other, both came from troubling childhoods, and we were able to connect on a level that I previously didn't know existed. There was no judgement held in our conversations, and she was the first person I told my deepest secrets to. If something happened in my day, she was the first person I called. If there was a big decision I had to make, she was the first opinion I asked for. There was so much trust and respect for one another. We couldn't be more different in personality and aesthetic, but we just made sense. We could rely on one another. This was the kind of relationship that I had always yearned for. I couldn't believe I had finally found my platonic soulmate.

But there was always this feeling lingering at the back of my mind, telling me that it was too good to be true, that I should be holding my breath and wait for things to come crashing down around me.

Whenever things get too comfortable or mundane, I seem to want to cause some sort of drama. I grow restless in peace, and suspicious. A large part of this is due to my childhood. I was raised in an ever-changing environment, one where as soon as I grew comfortable something would come along to disturb it. Now I have become that disturbant force.

When things were going fine, I would read between the lines of what was said to me and extrapolate wild imaginings. While sometimes they were warranted, most of the time they were not. When knowing someone as well as I did her, it was easy for me to think I knew everything about her. I knew how she thought about things, how she dealt with certain situations, how she would react to what I said to her. It was a double-edged sword. Being that close to someone makes you feel entitled to their time, attention, and care. When that became split, I grew uneasy and hurt. I am used to being abandoned by friends, family, but that doesn't make it any easier. It makes me become petty in my jealousy. This is hard to admit.

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I could've been more accepting of her new boyfriend, even though he was a drug addict with a serious criminal past. I should've just been happy that she was happy. That she seemed to be doing well in this relationship and branching out. But I was protective and envious that she could so easily leave me in the dust for the next best thing. I withdrew just as much as she did, deciding that if she wasn't going to put in any effort, then neither was I. I was just so sick of calling and texting and getting minimal responses in return. The relationship wasn't feeding my soul like it used to. Our connection wasn't the same. And I feared that we could never return to what we once had. I didn't feel like I owed it to her, or myself, to keep trying. There was nothing more to be done. This was her new reality and I didn't quite fit into it the way I did before. It's taking a lot for me to accept this truth and be able to move on from it.

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At the beginning, I was numb to it. We talked everything out, and she started the conversation being defensive and pointing the blame elsewhere. It was frustrating but she finally got to the point where she told me that she did push me away. She said that I made her realize hard truths about herself and she wanted to escape that. She didn't want to face her work and wanted to keep moving past without interacting with it. I was hurt, but also not surprised; I had figured as much. I often bring out these kinds of emotions within people, it's just the way that I act in relationships. I always want to dig deeper and get to the roots of each other. I thrive off of that genuine connection. So I understand her wanting to keep her distance, but I also feel that she could have communicated that to me. If she told me she needed a break from getting so personal, I would have been accepting. I am more faceted than she gave me credit. I wish that I would have been in the know, maybe things would have worked out differently.

But this is how she chose to deal with things and I must make my peace with that. If that's all she saw me for, for being able to pull out her emotions and help her deal with them, to me that's not true friendship. I do not just offer a means to heal. I also deserve that same respect and space to grow. It's not just about what I provide to her, but also what she provides for me. It seems that she forgot that I also rely on her for a comforting, safe space and a friend to have fun banter with.

I miss all the good times we had together, going out to a club or restaurant, chilling at one of our houses, smoking or just having a fun night. I felt so at ease. I hope I will find that again. Maybe even with her. The future is not set, but for the time being I let her know that I need space away from her to process and heal. She reached out a week after I said that and it made me realize that things won't change anytime soon. We need to discover who we are separate from one another. We need to be able to grow and experience new things. One day we may once again intertwine our paths, but for now I have to let her go. Let us go. If it's meant to be it shall reveal itself so. I can no longer hold onto hope that drains my energy and dulls my passions. Apart, we can flourish.

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Interlude

I almost feel like I feed off of being sad and desolate. It gives me reason to wallow, which is something I love dearly. It's yet another addiction I have yet to beat. The feeling of misery is incomparable, one that I feel remiss to lose connection with. Finally putting this out in the open, I can say that I like being depressed. It's a safe space where there are zero commitments or expectations for me to do better. I am where I am, and there's nothing more to it. I just have to ride it out and deal with lack of ambition and encompassing anxiety.

Maybe it's the release that I crave from it. Being able to let my raw emotion out through my tears, releasing in a tangible way that proves to myself and others that it's real.

But why do I feel I have to prove this?

Well that has an easy answer. I've talked about this in one of my previous posts, The Meaning Behind the Name. Whenever I had to go to my father's house for the weekend, I would cry as an expression of my refusal to see him, since my words would not allow me to. If he ever saw me cry, he would make me feel bad for it. So I used to lock myself in the bathroom to get all my tears out. Press my eyes shut with my fingers, squeezing so tightly I thought they would pop right out of the sockets. Trying to gain my composure before he could see me and make terrible comments that would only induce more.

But one time I remember he came to the bathroom door and asked, "Are you crying in there? Are you really looking in the mirror and watching yourself cry?". And then he laughed, finding it humorous for some morbid reason. He then called me pathetic, and told me to let him know when I was done pitying myself. He then walked away.

I couldn't meet my eye in the mirror for a long time after that. And anytime I cried, I thought that I was being stupid and that I had no right to feel the way that I did. That there was no real reason for me to be taking up space and 'causing a scene'.

I'd say that's a pretty defining moment for me, being a kid with already low self-esteem, being told that it was unacceptable for me to feel anything other than joy and happiness. Because apparently that's what he provided me. I now know that he is an extremely unhappy man who is dissatisfied with his own life, and was taking it out on me. However this does not ease the emotional burden placed upon me.

I think that this is why whenever there is an opportunity to be sad, I take it. He is no longer in my life to invalidate my feelings and it's so freeing to be able to feel the full breadth of my emotions. Of course his voice is still in my ear telling me I'm being ridiculous, that's one of the many reasons I started cutting myself. I just wanted to stop hearing it, wanted there to be an 'actual' reason for me to be crying. So I made damn well sure I had one.

I'm proud to say I've outgrown this need, but it still lingers some days. It's hard to fully accept that I don't need to punish myself in this way to ease my guilt. Although other vices have crept into my life and grabbed hold of me, I'm trying my best to outgrow them. I know that they provide temporary reprieve, or make things worse altogether. But isn't it easier to just numb yourself? I've felt attached to this mindset since I was about 10 years old. I mastered the art of silent crying so as to not disturb my sister sleeping next to me in our shared room. Finally allowing myself to process a day of repressing myself and walking on eggshells around my father so he didn't have a reason to yell at me. Even though he never needed much to trigger him.

I know how hard it is to be vulnerable with yourself. It's so very difficult. At first, I felt so awkward just spending time with myself because I had been bottling everything inside of me. I couldn't be honest with myself so I didn't know how to interact with my inner voice. I didn't truly know who I was. Where to even begin? For me, it has taken many years to get where I am now. A lot of time spent in discomfort and feeling around for the right path. I used to just sit in my room on the carpet and start thinking about my childhood and all the things I wished I could change. I would look through my memories and find the ones that would cause tears and unrest. The ones that made me feel sick inside. That brought forth these deep feelings of questioning other people's actions and the way I responded to them. Doing this would often lead to panic attacks, the sheer weight of reality being too much for me to bear. But every time I delved back into them, I found this burden less imposing. I was slowly able to think clearly about situations and not devolve into anxiety and a never-ending flow of tears. Even after I thought I had taken all the lessons from them, there were still more that presented themselves.

Whenever one particular memory keeps rising to the surface that I thought I put in the past, I allow myself to think about it for the days to come. With time, the meaning will present itself and I can begin to discern its teachings. It's hard work, that's to be sure. But this is what's required to move forward. My hope is that once I have dissected them enough, I will feel confident to shed them for good. Of course they will always be a part of me, but I do not wish for them to hold power over me. I cannot heal with them being so prominent.

It's like working through a tangled knot in your hair. You start with the outside bits and work your way into that stubborn ball inside. Sometimes you can work it out and others you need to find a pair of scissors. You can't go for that big part right away without first untangling the small pieces.

These small pieces are those interactions that you've had surrounding your trauma. Perhaps it's the way you treat others, or the way you treat yourself. How you disrespect your boundaries and time, neglecting self-care and living for the amiability of others. But once you work through those more, you can see that they all lead back to a moment in your life that caused all this disruption. No matter if it was one moment or a collection of them, you cannot minimize the impact they have had on you. There is no longer any denying that it has affected the way you conduct yourself.

Once you get to this pivotal part, the deeper work begins. With your strength already taken up, it is intimidating to start yet another set of unveilings. It is pertinent to allow yourself the space to process and come to terms with all your learnings. There is no timeline for healing. You do it in however much time you need to take. It cannot be rushed and you must not push yourself if you're not ready to move forward. This is a valuable lesson I have learned. As much as I want to fast-forward this process, I know that if I want to do this properly I have to listen to my cues and not rush from one discovery to the next. When I do, I become overwhelmed and incapacitated. Unable to find motivation to do menial tasks such as washing my face or doing my laundry. You do not realize how much self-discovery takes out of you. Be lenient and be kind to yourself. That's all I ask while you embark on this journey. Remember that you are worthy and valued and loved. You are deserving of respect and acceptance. If you are not finding that with your current company, you must set boundaries and extend your reach to new opportunities and friendships.

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I am currently in a friendship with someone I've known since junior kindergarten. We haven't been friends the entire time, have naturally had falling outs through the years. But we keep coming back to each other. She's a great person who is ambitious and studious. She is attending university and pursuing her dreams and works hard for her money. She deals with a strict and controlling family. Her parents taught her from a young age that she shouldn't express her emotions, instead revelling in anger and outbursts. They don't make space to talk candidly about how they're feeling, and instead encourage her to deal with things on her own and be a perfectly placid daughter. At a drop of a hat, she will fulfill their whims and bend to their every need. These tendencies have bled over into our relationship.

She is quick to anger and will not express to me how she's feeling. As we've already discussed, emotional intimacy is my bread and butter, a relationship is only surface level if I can't get into that. There have been several times where she has blown up at me when she feels frustrated. She doesn't know how to express her boundaries and triggers, despite me telling her multiple times that I would greatly value knowing them. It seems that time and time again we reach the same threshold where she recognizes her family's effects on her, but doesn't know how to move forward, or isn't truly willing to.

It's a bit frustrating for me because I've been steadily in this friendship with her but don't really know who she is. I don't know her emotions, her core. It makes me sad that she won't open up to me. She's expressed that she is comfortable around me but isn't used to being so open about her feelings. I understand where she's coming from, but also don't see her trying to do any better. But I'm not about to judge her journey. She will do things at her own pace and make her discoveries when she is well and truly ready.

For my own sanity, I have chosen to take a small step back from our relationship. I have become worn out from trying and trying and not gaining any traction. It's wearing me down and I do not want to become resentful. I want to prevent this as much as possible, instead of leaning into it like I often do. I think it will be best for both of us in the long run.

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Experiencing many different kinds of friendships has opened my eyes to the world. Every person is unique and you have to give them the opportunity to present all that they are to you. If what they offer does not resonate, you will have to learn to let them go. This does not require a dramatic exit from their lives, often you can just let friendships die out naturally from lack of contact. Distance is truly the best way to figure out the direction that you want to take with them in the future. Sometimes it's all you need in order to progress.

I do have more thoughts on this, but for now I am emotionally worn out and probably need to eat something to combat my forming headache.

Until we meet again.