Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Inquisitorial Review

You know
I could have been
an addict
an alcoholic
a compulsive liar
a gambler
a thief
an abuser
But I'm not and I never have been.
Given what I've been through
and not completely given in to
I may be a little surprising
to those who really know all of the truth about me.
I'm clingy,
fear abandonment,
and sometimes I'm a total bitch
when I'm not mentally torturing myself.
I'm my own Inquisition
because I wasn't strong enough
to prevent those things from happening
to me
so I figure I deserve to hurt.
The all-seeing eye of memory
turned inward
is destructive.
Accepts no excuses
or explanation
and can't blame anyone else.
Go on and think you know
the real me
if it flatters you.
Just understand ....
I probably never trusted you enough
to tell you the most important things
to make you understand
or accept me
for who I really am.
Do you really know me?
Am I the sum of my flaws....
Or a result of having survived?
You could be generous
and cut me some slack
because I'm probably already
strangling myself
when you're not looking at me so critically.


I've beaten the odds too.

What can I say -- it's still true. We tend to look at ourselves with the harshest of magnifying glasses. I often fail to see the good things about myself, and sometimes I should consider that I've been pretty damn strong to make it through the swamp that had been my life so far.

At the time I wrote this I remember that I had just started dating someone I had truly been in love with for many years already. Nobody understood the tenacity of my emotions and therefore dismissed what I felt as nothing.

Oh it's just "puppy love", I was insulted with. Oh? How can someone write off my very serious feelings as something a preschooler would have, rather than a nearly 40 year old woman? Because I don't drop my drawers at every man who shows a bit of interest, they think I'm not an adult? Okay then, I suppose they need to stop asking me for relationship and sex advice from here on out.

Yeah, I said it. Lol.

I wouldn't say it was nothing. Far from it, in fact. He was definitely "The One" and I was forbidden to talk about him around certain people. Oh, forget me asking THEM for advice -- I got a huffy cold shoulder any time I mentioned him.

Guess what? I'm real too.

The above writing was prompted by my realization that though he finally stopped breaking our dates, he didn't really want to be with me. At this point, I was only beginning to suspect but wouldn't allow myself to hope for more anyway.

There was always some reason on his side. Always a different reason. I accepted them, knowing all the while that there was a simple reason for all of his excuses. I don't think I have the right to be mad because he didn't love me. I don't have a leg to stand on really.

I finally told him how I had felt, once things between us had ended weakly -- his choice. The man who told me he never wanted to be married again did get married again.

Maybe what he didn't want to say out loud was that he would never want to be married to me. It's an opinion shared pretty much universally by all the men on the planet. :-/. Okay, fine. It's not like I want a life in servitude to any man anyway. I manned up to take care of myself, so all the fellas can just put on their big girl panties and get over it. Yeah, I mixed those metaphors with a vengeance. Deal with it. Lol

I suppose I'll always love him even though I try not to think about it anymore because we are still friends. Very physically distant friends.

Wanting what I'll never have is a useless state of being, so I did my usual: box it up and shove it to the dusty back of the emotional closet. It's a pretty deep closet and I don't often take things out one they have been relegated there.

I've accepted it. Not like I have a choice. :). When defeat is inevitable, sometimes a girl has to lie down and die. I just don't want to be in the middle of all the drama. I'd like to be in a calm happy place, but I suppose I have to settle for calm and count that as a blessing. LOL

For the rest, I'm sorry I couldn't be the provider of cheer for all those cursed with my presence, but I never knew that my purpose on this planet was to keep other people happy and not myself. I've been told in no uncertain terms many times that how I feel doesn't matter and I'm supposed to be all cheery because I'm bringing other people down.

Well, I don't agree. It's very much my turn. Kiss my butt if you don't like it because your turn is over. :).

I feel that I should share this -- perpetual rejection and disappointment don't make the best antidepressants.

I'm sneered at a lot for my depression. But at least I haven't filled my life with the vices that others chose and whine that they can't help themselves quit. I think it's a strange world indeed where I am sneered at for buying books in pursuit of learning more, and the sneerers pat themselves on the back for buying themselves cigarettes, liquor, and other questionable purchases.

Side note - I am blamed for ruining my father's ... Well, the family's "weekend" at the lake because I stood up for myself and refused to be kicked around anymore. Because I went home on the second night.

There you go, that lovely American tradition of "blame the victim.". It stretches from school, to the workplace, to home and family, to one's own conscience. How can I be forgiven for problems I'm not responsible for causing?

Hm. I know I probably should never even consider it, but I wonder how many times my simply being born has been pegged as the cause of problems in my family. Hm.

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