People do horrible things
because not being loved hurts so much; not being able to express or change the
pain of the void inside makes us do wicked things. Some days I hurt so much
that a wicked behavior just hops right out of me.
I’m at a level of awareness so
I recognize it and then, of course, get upset with myself. My tendency to beat
myself up over the smallest infraction of behavior has diminished thanks to a
thoughtful God, who has given me so much to want to beat myself up over that I’ve
almost quite given up on it. What do they call it in psychological terms?
Flooding?
Drowning in sorrow, but not
actually dying has given me a new perspective, lucky me. Caroline Myss talks
about seeing our archetypes. I read the book, have the playing cards and worked
on understanding the mess with little success. There should be a dummy card
with a girl in the corner with the dunce hat on for one of my archetypes.
When I was a married, fat
and happy lady, I looked at the prostitute card and wondered if under a different
set of circumstances it would apply to me. Little did I know the need for
another new card, the occasional asshole, which applies way more than the
prostitute.
The people who have loved me
the best are passed. I have time to remember why I miss them, to absorb the
love bonds we created together. Knowing that never again in this lifetime will
I have the joy of time spent in their love hurts.
I would rather endure the
beatings of my childhood all over again, to feel every physical pain I ever had
than suffer the feeling of love lost; that’s how painful this has been.
Healing, holding on, letting
go, growing are the bad with the good. This is the part where what doesn’t kill
me will make me stronger for the task of my life. The conscious me is still in “Duh”
mode on whatever that is. What surprises me is that I am actually learning to
go with the flow. Who says you can’t train an old control freak?
My next story will be about
true love and surprise, surprise; it’s not about me.
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