Sunday Self-Reflection

Although I have been filling my time quite nicely, I have found myself with about a million hours to just sit and think.  I was told for roughly six months that "it's not all about me" and now, it gets to be.  I have discovered a LOT about myself, for better and worse.

In the 12th grade, the boy I was dating hated one of my very close friends.  He said terrible, catty things and I did not stand up for her.  And when she inevitably found out, I did not stand up for him.  I just sat there and let the friendship die.

Over and over this pattern has repeated itself.  As I become closer to people, I become terrified that they will leave.  If I express an opinion they will realize that I am awful and they can do better.  Casual acquaintances?  No biggie.  Them leaving would have little impact on my life.  As soon as I begin to depend on someone, I shut down.  Become almost paralyzed.  I sit back and let them shine; let them be the important one.  I start to assume that if I get upset, or angry or even give a dissenting opinion, they will leave.  It's not a conscious decision.  I work against it all the time, but it seems to get worse over time.  The more people that leave, the more it reinforces this strange little cycle happening in my subconscious.  But all I'm doing by not speaking up is preventing a deeper bond from forming.  Making ties that would make it worth their staying.

Now we are where we are.  I am almost 32 years old and no closer to being the person I want to be than when I was 17.  I recognize these things about myself that I would like to change, but I have NO idea how to do it.  Take a public speaking class?  Become the next Emily Dickinson and never leave my bedroom?  Keep upping my meds until I just don't care?  Turn to black tar heroin so it's all irrelevant?

I've had all of these revelations over the last month.  I understand all of these things that have been lurking for years, sabotaging every relationship in my life, romantic or otherwise.  I've always looked very hard at what went wrong, and I seemed to convince myself there was a tragic flaw in the other person.  When all along, it was me.  The tragic flaw is...me.

So this is all well and good.  Good for me for realizing I am imperfect.  I now know what I need to change, but really, I've known it all along.  Admitting and owning it does nothing to alter it.  I've been thinking about therapy to try and come up with a plan.  Unfortunately, that's just not in the budget right now.  I'm exploring my "creative" side, which is super fun, but it does not help me become a better communicator.  Meh.  I think I'll stick with my self-indulgent writing and perhaps putting it out into the atmosphere will eventually bring clarity.  Until that happens, I bring you...bad poetry.

I just went through my high school poetry notebook.  I go through phases with how I feel about what I wrote (and currently write.)  Right now, this is the only one that seems worth sharing.

Try Harder
11-11-94

What to do
What to do
What the hell
To fucking do
Sit and wait
Sit and wait
Left by love
Engulfed by hate
Keeping down the
Rage and fear
Trying hard to
Sheath the spear
To look and see
The pain you feel
To know that my pain,
Too, is real,
Does not make it any less
It makes me hide
From your caress
Little does the
Young boy know
When we die
Where we shall go
Away from here
Away from here
Trying hard to
Disappear