Rage or something like it

I've stumbled across something. I'm trying to identify it. One really bad movie seems to have set something off inside me. I haven't sorted it out yet. I think back to some times in the past and I find myself getting wound up with something I couldn't identify churning inside of me. in time, I saw it for what it was. Rage. When I've been put in tough positions in the past, I ask myself what did I do? I cried. I squirmed. I told them no. And what exactly did that get me? Not a whole hell of a lot. Certainly didn't accomplish my intended goal. I didn't save myself. In this world, at the end of the day the only person you can count on is yourself. In the moment where I needed my own self the most, I let myself down. So I find myself with a healthy dose of undiluted rage. And I can't identify who its directed at. Partially at myself, for being weak and unable to defend myself. Partially at the world for teaching me to be "nice" and not defend myself and fight for myself. But there something more there I'm not seeing. I push against it, but I can't break through to see whatever it is. I find myself wanting to make someone hurt they way I once was. I want someone to feel what I did. This, I know, will not make me feel any better. It will not grant me any kind of peace or resolution in my soul. I want to lash out, with words and with actions. I ask myself why I want that. Its because I want to feel strong. I'm looking for my inner power. Rage, perhaps, comes from an inner frustration at my lack of ability to defend myself, or rather, the belief that I don't have the ability to defend myself. What does it mean that I associate power with being able to inflict pain? Is that association built on experiences from the past? Pain equals power. Within myself, I recognize that that's not healthy, and that's not the right answer. Its not the truth that resonates within myself. I am not that person, and that's where the conflict begins. Perhaps what I'm feeling is the conflict. I want something that isn't the right answer, and isn't the productive choice. If that's so, and its so contrary to my nature, why do I crave it? What does it say about me that a small part to me wants to be to someone else what another person once was to me? I want the power I seem to think I will feel over someone else. That's a lie, of course. Resorting to violence to lash out at a person who wrongs you only lowers yourself as a person. Frankly, I'm a better person than that. Even as I write this, I find myself reminding myself that I was raised to be better than a bully. Maybe I learned that lesson too well. I've said before I'm too nice. My place in the world now underlines this reaction because of my lack of control and power in my life. It fuels this rage-like sensation I'm struggling with. I'm even nervous to call it rage, for fear of what others may think. Why does outside opinion matter so much? Even as I write this I'm undecided as to whether or not I'll actually post it. Its too much. Its too honest. Why don't I make my own opinion a priority first? 'Others' (speaking generally) have not been a reliable source of support up till now. (Again, specific people, you know who you are, not included) People continue to let me down, yet their opinion counts more than my own. I don't get that. Rage is with me, happy to be recognized and called my name, I only need to determine its true source. Maybe there is more from when I was much younger that I'm only starting to tap into to. Maybe its time I see everything. I'm tired of hiding, most of all from myself. There may come a day where I'm really to be transparent, but that day is not here yet. Maybe now, I'm one small step closer. I will post this, chips fall where they may. I'm not going to pretend anymore.
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Boundaries

Interesting to me how one story from when my mother was younger can cause a shift in my perspective that in effect, creates such an adjustment that I see truths about myself that weren't as apparent as before. I have issues with boundaries. I don't know how to set them and I don't know healthy ways to respond when they are crossed. When I was younger boundaries weren't as issue. As a child in my house I wasn't supposed to have any. I was just to do as I'm was told. This behavior goes back generations in my family. The change is now I can see the same pattern in every inter-personal relationship I've ever had. There have been times I've tried to set boundaries, but I think even I knew subconsciously that I didn't really mean it and I wouldn't back it up. Little surprise when the other person opted not to respect them either. In trying to figure out why I seem to struggle with this, I have to ask myself to define a boundary. Is it simply not accepting certain behaviors or does it go further than that? I've always called myself a control freak. Looking at myself from this angle I'm not sure that's right. What do I control? Even now, living where I do, I do what I'm told to keep the peace. Its just easier. Duck and cover any unacceptable choices to maintain what authority has established as the status quo. There are no physical consequences to misdeeds, only endless strife and calls of judgment. So where does this come from? Is the inability to set boundaries innate or is it created? On one hand it could give fuel to suspicions I've had for a while now. That could also be me looking for something that's not there. On the other hand I could just be a very compliant person who prefers to be a peacemaker. If that is true, no matter how peaceful you try to be, there comes a time eventually where you must draw the line. Everyone has t stand their ground eventually. This was most obvious in my last job. No matter how badly the company treated me, I came back for more every day for almost three years. And I left not because I was standing my ground, but because there was no other choice. Even in personal relationships, I dislike a persons behavior but I say nothing, turning in fact to become a staunch defender of that persons rights to do the acts that bother me. What does this say about me? Am I really just as weak as I've always secretly feared I have been? What's the difference between weakness and docile? Even as I type that word, docile, my heart revolts against it. I'm not docile. At least, I don't want to be. I haven't learned any other way. How does a person go about learning something that can't come from a book? Even my kids are better at it than I am. That's the funny thing, I can set and stick to boundaries w them. Its a no-brainer as far as they're concerned. Children need boundaries and I'm the only one to give it to them. Why can I give them something I can't give myself? It could be said from that observation about my kids that I do know how to set boundaries, but choose not to when it comes to myself. Do I see my kids as having a greater inherent value than myself? Of course I do, I think they're pretty terrific. Why can't I see the person that created them and is raising them with equal value? Does it go back to not having my NO respected? Or not being given a voice as a child? Maybe those combined with an innate desire for acceptance. Maybe I think I'll find my place by trying to fit into every place I find, until one is comfortable. So far, that route hasn't worked out so well. I don't respect myself or what I want nearly enough. I need to figure out now what to do about it. Where does strength come from? Can it be learned? I'll let you know when I figure it out. Feel free to comment.
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Victim/survivor mentality

So I've never painted myself as a victim. I've always been proud of the things in my life that I've overcome and survived. I don't focus on the slings and slights that are part of the process of life. I try to rise above and not lower myself to their levels. I choose people to be close to me who only love and support me and what I want in life. I try all this, and what do I get? A constant stream of people who seem to feel the need to cut at me and swing at me whenever the opportunity arises. My mother calls me and makes a point of telling me that a friend I haven't seen in 20 years is at the beach. In the next breath tells me there is no room for me at the beach, and not to bother coming down. To me, that's just mean. This isn't just one time. People I choose to let close seem to take a fair amount of pleasure in taking digs like that. People I let in my choice feel the need to take advantage of my nature and take aim at me. This is a theme in my life that has repeated itself many many times. I sit here and ask myself why is this my fate? What am I doing wrong that people close feel no remorse for hurting me? I rise above, I move past. I ignore deflect and defend. It rarely does any good. It only happens again and again. So often the damage leaves no marks, but small scars only I can see, forming and intricate pattern across my skin describing poor choices in my past. I wish it were just her. Its really not. The list goes on and on. I can't say I allow it, but what do I do to prevent it? I've been told in the past that I should retaliate every time, but I don't know if I have that in my nature. Maybe I need to change. Maybe I need to be a castrating bitch. Maybe if I push first people won't feel the need to see what I'll let them get away with. Maybe this is just part of the human experience. I don't know. All I know is I'm really exhausted from wondering where the attack is coming from and how I will need to defend myself this time. I don't know anymore. Maybe I really am too nice. Funny thing is I always thought it was one on my better character features. Maybe mean really is better.
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Questions questions questions

I find myself stopping and starting this entry, asking myself just how honest do I really want to be? How much of myself am I willing to reveal, and if I’m not willing to show myself, what is the purpose of this exercise at all? If I continue to hide things, am I really doing any kind of a service to myself or to anyone who might actually happen to read this? Do I hide them because I’m not willing to admit it myself yet? It’s so easy to reveal the inner workings of my kids and the things they are experiencing, but when it comes to me, what’s really going on inside, I mitigate the content, choosing not to reveal as much. Why am I so afraid to show myself? Perhaps I fear rejection at some base level. Perhaps there is the fear people will tell me I’m crazy and not to think that way. Maybe I already know I’m wrong and I don’t want to hear the confirmation from others. I don’t know, and yet I still sit here and struggle with this. I can honestly say I don’t know which direction I’m going to go just yet. Maybe I’m afraid to go after what I want. Maybe I don’t want to admit that I want what I do. If that’s the case, why am I afraid to admit what I want? Is it because it will risk me condemnation from those I’m closest to? And yet that doesn’t stop what I feel. Following what I feel when it comes to my personal life has almost never taken me anywhere positive. Maybe this time I need to follow my head instead. Does that mean risking a shallow meaningless interactions because the right answer is only the right answer on paper? If I land in a stable contented place, does it really matter how I got there? I find myself at a cross roads with no distinct signs to tell me which way to go. Both ways have their own pitfalls. It comes down to asking myself who I can trust. The answer of course is neither but for totally different reasons. The only person I can really trust is myself. Maybe the right answer is none of the above. I think that’s what scares me most of all, finding out later on I chose wrong and the right answer was neither. Maybe I should choose myself for once instead of something else.  And I don’t have any clear answers. Maybe I’ve revealed more here than I realized. Maybe it’s all out there now for the world to see and I only think I’m hiding. Doesn’t matter I said what I think I needed to and that’s the whole point.

 

 

the anxiety monster

My heart breaks just a little for my son. He battles demon every day that only he can see and no one else can truly help him with. It whispers to him, sometimes I think telling him only the scariest possible outcomes can be had from any situation. this monster exists only in his mind of course, but its as real to him as the stars at night are to everyone else. His anxiety monster doesn't roar or gnash teeth, its almost silent, telling to be fearful, that he's just not good enough and he's not capable of handling anything. He withdrawals when the monster whispers, hiding behind a mask of reserved silence, finding comfort and escapism in video games and beloved stuffed animals. No child should have to grow up feeling this way. No one should have to face a new day battling against uncertainty and a lack of self worth. I think back to how his face glows when he does something he's proud of. If you could plug him in he'd light a room. But those moments are fleeting. Soon enough, he's being left behind or ignored by those outside the family and the vicious cycle begins again. I find myself asking if I feed into this. I comfort, I reassure and help him think through things. And I truly helping or am I a crutch he will never outgrow? Change, even a seemingly small change is so very hard for him. Something like starting a new school year causes weeks of stress and gives the monster entirely too much fuel to grow with. The whispers have such credence to him. "What if no one likes you?" "What if you have no friends?" "What if the bus driver yells?" These are not hurdles a 5th grader should have to cross, as they had been long ago conquered and defeated. I watch his friends, and see none of this. They carry with them their armor, the unshakable sense that the world is safe and predictable and bad things exist only on the nightly news. Pat has none of that. He knows how suddenly this world can shift. He faces the smaller monster we all do, armed only with a much larger monster that reminds him his own father cast him aside. I cannot understand his fear, but I hurt for it just the same. I cannot fight this monster for him. I hand him small weapons I have found useful in the past in fighting some of my own demons. Some he uses, some are to unwieldy for him to manage. My heart breaks just a little as he sleeps because only in that place is the monster truly silent. Sleep eludes him frequently as the monsters whispers become more urgent, and time presses closer. And there is little I can do. That is the hardest part of all. He needs to find his own way to silence him once and for all. I hand him weapons, psychiatrists and therapists and they do shore up his armor, but at the end of the day, it is only him who can fight this. I can only hope its enough. I can't make him see himself as others do, as a funny spirited intelligent boy with a knack for technology and a passion for swimming. They see awkward. They see shy. They see lazy and disorganized and weird. Most people never see he is none of these things. They see what the anxiety monster wants them too. Perhaps we will be able to silence him some day, once and for all. I dream of that, for him to see himself as I do, smart, resilient and perfect. Its time for you to go now monster, were done with you here.

mea culpa

I am not a strong person. I pretend I am, and I can play the part as well as anyone, but in reality, I am not. In order to figure out where I should be I need to identify where I am and call it by name. I go along to get along. With everyone. I concern myself more with making the other people happy than I do with myself happy. I live to please the rest of the world. Even if it means denying who I am in the process. I recently found myself in a situation where I bent and twisted in order to create the person I thought that person wanted me to be. Maybe if I could be what ihe needed he would stop acting like he was. You know, it really doesn't work that way. I completely lost myself for a few days in the process. I have been given a few days of quiet in my own head, as there is no one in the house but for me and the kids for the next week. Its an interesting place to be in, as the kids have been in bed for some time and I've had nothing but the quiet I have so craved in my own head. I'm not happy, but that statement isn't enough to describe where I find myself. I'm not happy and I haven't been for a really really long time. I can't live like this anymore. As many of you know I have been looking for work for sometime without a great deal of success. Even as I look I can only think..."What's the point?" I have lived to make my mom and kids happy but its gotten me only to this place. My voice, my light is silent. I know, I feel I am meant for something different, but I don't know what it is. I am not strong enough. Those people closest to me will debate this as I have survived some ugliness in my life, but I see that as a further example that I'm right. Those experiences color my reactions to the world even now. I lived guided by what might be, a twinge of fear that infects my every interaction with those around me. I'm not a strong person, in most occasions I will give someone the answer I think they are looking for in order to keep the peace. Living under some peoples thumb for too long has poisoned my ability to fight back. Keep the peace, go along to get along,give them what they want. I don't know if I even know how to speak my mind anymore. I don't like choices I've made or some things I've done. I'm not proud of myself. I don't think I've done many things worthy of it. This does not mean I have poor feelings about everything I've done, just for the record. I know when it comes to my kids I'm on the right track. But the choice to just do what I'm told becomes stronger and stronger with every year that passes. I have to call the darker parts of myself what they are, and the only way to do that is to put it all out there for the world to see. A wound heals best when exposed to the air. This cannot continue or I'll not survive intact. I have bent too far and completely lost myself along the way. This is not enough. I need so so so much more.

changing

So...today i chopped off all my hair, well most of it anyway. (I'll post pictures later) the last week has been memorable, but sadly for all the wrong reasons. Between heavy ugliness in my personal life and having my car broken into and realizing dreams I have are further away than I would like to believe, I have had a tough week. In response to all this stress, I cut off my hair. I have found altering something I can control can help, at least temporarily restore my equilibrium and sense of being able to affect my own life. This week has left me questioning almost everything i thought, and everytrhing I took for granted. Some people were not quite what they seemed. Maya Angelou said once "When someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time." I chose to believe this person this time and made some choices in my life because of it. I hear a voice in my head, as I look around at where I am, and it tells me 'this isn't so bad, accept it, this is your fate to remain in this stasis you call home'. I cannot believe that. Even as I hear it said, something in me rebels like a hormonal teenager. No, my heart cries, this can't be it, this can't be all there is. I want, I need so much more. I ask myself if I'm greedy to want more than I have.

I feel good though, because for maybe the first time in my life I stood up to a situation that was unacceptable and didn't go along to get along. I found my backbone and called it by name, not sugar coating or lying about it. I didn't accept good enough as good enough. I know I deserve more. As can be seen in my dating history, I'm not known for being very good and calling people on lousy behavior. In the past i have accepted things I should not have because I wanted and needed that person to accept and validate me. I sought my identity through them, trying to become what would make them happy. I saw myself starting to do that again with this person. anything to make them happy. And hey even if this person made my cry sometimes, that's just how it goes right? This time, I saw it for exactly what it was and didnt pretend I didn't see it. I validated myself. Feels pretty good. There's more to come, in the more mundane aspects of my life, I want more. (I also want another tattoo, that will be very soon for sure) I have avioded getting one because 'some' people wouldnt like it. People might dissapprove, might say something.  Fuck em. I seem to have stumbled across my voice somewhere along the way. Funny thing is, the person who triggered this whole post might just be part of the reason I found it. Yeah, there's some irony there for sure. I am worthy, not because of who i'm with, but because of who I am. I don't totally buy this yet, but the seed has been planted.