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Rewind to peace
Aug. 25th, 2021 12:08 pmI'm by the sea in North Wales in one of my favourite places. I've not been here for over two years, cos Covid. I've missed it - it feels pure and talismanic of the Time Before All the Shit Happened.
There was a lot of shit. Homeschooling, Covid, toxic relationship from hell. I kept blaming the first two, and also myself for the terrible trashing of my life. I blamed them right up until the point where it became ridiculous. Then I lost the final factor and my life finally bounced back up. It's been horrific. Last night I finally cried for myself and my loss. For the fact that may have been the last time I fall in love - it feels that way. For the wasted time, and the broken dreams and soul to show for it. Apparently no time is wasted, but it's generally the victor who spouts these trite platitudes. And when one person does so well in a relationship and the other falls and burns there is definitely a victor.
I cried for being told I wasn't being vulnerable, when I put my most treasured things on the table to be sifted through and criticised. I cried for being told that I dwelled too much in the trauma of other partners, when every traumatic partner has told me that they're special and different and I should let my guard down. And I cried for being corrected on what I felt, what I heard, what I meant by what I said. Over and over until I lost my me-ness, and I cried for that too.
I cried in rage when I finally got dropped like a shitty tissue after being kept hanging for three weeks, after six months of comprehensive fucking over. I was an idiot to date an addict - there will never be bonding, they will never be in love with you, they will never take the time to learn or attune in a relationship. It takes a lot of coming back from that. You need to do active recovery, to own your shit. You need to apologise and atone. So many hurtful things I was told didn't happen, weren't meant, or were just a joke.
It's not funny. Holding someone's hand through their darkest times when there's no normal to hold on to isn't funny. Being told that you owe them when you're having a nervous breakdown isn't funny. Being dumped with a smug chilly smile isn't funny.
Some people don't actually have the qualities they think they have, including humour.
So last night I just cried because it was all so sad - I'm a silly girl, and people don't change. Addicts are still just that, even when you take the drug away. You have to pay back all the debt accumulated when you only cared about yourself, and only grace will lessen the debt.
Laughing deep laughs for the first time in two years is a sign of healing. Listening to songs for my childhood is a sign of healing. Just sitting here and speaking my truth on a page is a sign of healing.
There was a lot of shit. Homeschooling, Covid, toxic relationship from hell. I kept blaming the first two, and also myself for the terrible trashing of my life. I blamed them right up until the point where it became ridiculous. Then I lost the final factor and my life finally bounced back up. It's been horrific. Last night I finally cried for myself and my loss. For the fact that may have been the last time I fall in love - it feels that way. For the wasted time, and the broken dreams and soul to show for it. Apparently no time is wasted, but it's generally the victor who spouts these trite platitudes. And when one person does so well in a relationship and the other falls and burns there is definitely a victor.
I cried for being told I wasn't being vulnerable, when I put my most treasured things on the table to be sifted through and criticised. I cried for being told that I dwelled too much in the trauma of other partners, when every traumatic partner has told me that they're special and different and I should let my guard down. And I cried for being corrected on what I felt, what I heard, what I meant by what I said. Over and over until I lost my me-ness, and I cried for that too.
I cried in rage when I finally got dropped like a shitty tissue after being kept hanging for three weeks, after six months of comprehensive fucking over. I was an idiot to date an addict - there will never be bonding, they will never be in love with you, they will never take the time to learn or attune in a relationship. It takes a lot of coming back from that. You need to do active recovery, to own your shit. You need to apologise and atone. So many hurtful things I was told didn't happen, weren't meant, or were just a joke.
It's not funny. Holding someone's hand through their darkest times when there's no normal to hold on to isn't funny. Being told that you owe them when you're having a nervous breakdown isn't funny. Being dumped with a smug chilly smile isn't funny.
Some people don't actually have the qualities they think they have, including humour.
So last night I just cried because it was all so sad - I'm a silly girl, and people don't change. Addicts are still just that, even when you take the drug away. You have to pay back all the debt accumulated when you only cared about yourself, and only grace will lessen the debt.
Laughing deep laughs for the first time in two years is a sign of healing. Listening to songs for my childhood is a sign of healing. Just sitting here and speaking my truth on a page is a sign of healing.
