All my life one notion seems to have been consistently present in my mind. One thing that no matter the relation, time or place seems to be ever certain… and that is that letting others push my boundaries ends up with someone getting hurt. Either me or them. Or both.
I can easily extrapolate a number of valid reasons why I'm like that… why it seems like that to me… what causes it and how I am sure it could be seen coming and so be avoided. As often as not I am sure it is a simple matter of lack of communication and willingness to express distress on my part that takes it that one step too far.
But that's kind of the thing… I've been growing ever more aware lately that I may be deliberately holding back from expressing it. Holding back because I feel guilty… I “shouldn't” be bugged or tweaked by it. Holding back because I feel inadequate… I “should” be capable. Holding back because I'm scared and feel alone, and so it's a safer bet to try and bear it without letting anyone see. Experience has taught me that it is an expensive weakness to admit, one that too many times have brought me only abandonment and rejection.
It's a frustrating and unwisely self-fulfilling Catch-22, of course. And an unfair choice on my part. It isn't the act of revealling weakness, which has bad connotations, as much as it is the fact that when I do finally express it I am just about to burst. I know that. Holding back through fear of condemnation and dismissal is exactly what takes it to the point where it blows up and divides. Still, finding the right balance, the right time and way – not to mention the courage – to express what needs to be said without impairing the situation seems something I just cannot get right though. Especially not when feeling unsafe.
It anything but pleases me that I am allowing myself to be such a “victim” of my past and my own fears. I expect better of myself than that. My past is what brought me here, I am not ashamed of it, and I wouldn't change it if I could. But evidently, I am far from over it where this is concerned.
“Life is a war. Grit your teeth and bear it. Fight for what you want and what you love or lose it”
Horribly paraphrased, yet it's not that long since that concept was put to me rather bluntly. (thank You!) I didn't like it much then but it hit home. Since, I've warmed considerably to it, and it still does hit home. On nights like tonight though, it brings with it this obnoxious sense of logic and clarity, refusing me the quarter to indulge in denial and self-pitying. I don't want either of those anyway, they're just so damn convenient to hide behind.
I want these walls down for no other reason than because I want to be able and happy living healthily without them. There is no reason why I shouldn't be – save me allowing myself to fall victim to my own perceptions, of course. Still, it's a lesson I just cannot seem to take to heart. The claws come out and I end up alone. Chastised, frightened and irate.
Perhaps it is simply how this works… that I will be battling it on my own until I have reclaimed my power over it – and myself – again. What I am supposed to do in the meantime until I find the way to do that, I haven't quite worked out yet though…. grit it and bear it, and find a way to keep faith, I suppose…