What I found: I found brief relief, and resolution. I accepted that I cannot change my past. The result of such acceptance has increased my feelings of cynicism about people and life, in general. I was chatting about this with someone recently. He suggested I simply have a bad attitude and need to change it. No doubt, he's correct. Walk in my shoes for one day and let me know if you figure out how to do that, because I'm a bit stymied. Not only that, but quite frankly, I'm not sure I want to, so even if you did figure it out, my bad attitude would stop your solution in its tracks.
I thought: I'm basically a happy person.
What I found: I've been aching for a long, long time. I still feel happy most of the time. I also feel the reality that I can be hurt and I often am--usually because of stupid things that don't matter. This phenomenon has increased as I continued working on things I thought would help me. And I'm not saying they didn't help, just that they didn't make me happy.
I thought: I could learn to trust people besides Darrin.
What I found: Sometimes that was true. But what is also true is that people get bored and move on to new situations and new friends. It happens repeatedly. I thought I could learn how to do that like everyone else. I can't. I don't want to. It's a yucky cycle and I hate it. Please don't make me try to like it.
I thought: I was strong and capable.
What I found: With each new discovery, I recognized just how broken and weak I am. Now, completely humbled, I can't even pretend anymore. And the most amazing thing is that I don't even care. I can no longer be something I am not.
I thought: I'd feel elated, excited, energized as I completed my therapy tasks.
What I found: Complete exhaustion, sadness, stark reality. I'm not saying I want to live the fantasy again, because I can't. But there was something redeeming in believing I was someone special. Now I understand I'm just another survivor of rape and abuse. I don't believe I deserved what I received, nor was it my fault, but part of me believes I may have facilitated it. I haven't yet decided if that's true, but then again, I'm not sure it makes any difference in the long run.
I thought: I wanted to live forever.
What I found: Life is good in any length. It doesn't really matter how long or how short. I intend to live while I'm alive--but I'm not sure I have any more dreams. It's an odd feeling.
Another friend, with whom I was trying to discuss this, made comments which in essence, described me as a depressed, and depressing individual. I don't feel depressed, but I'm sorry if the effect of Samantha is depressing. Welcome to the real world. Sometimes it sucks.
5 comments:
I just want you to know that you are actually very strong and very capable and one of the people I admire most. You are special.
You may be a gifted actress, but there's more to it than that. You see a lot of real beauty in the world around you and in your relationships. I think cynicism can be healthy, though I won't pretend to know how much yours is and whether or not it's healthy for you.
I have a friend at work with a similar dislike for relationships fizzling. I don't think anyone *likes* it, but some people seem to grieve it more than others.
I think you and I are on different ends of the spectrum in some ways but in a similarly lonely place because of it. I admire your ability to make and keep friendships even though it's got to be scary for you. I hope you and I get to be friends for a long while. :)
You are someone special. Look at the way you treat people. You are unusually kind and respectful, and you have a unique ability to understand others. It's a delight to know you.
You are not a depressing person, and not being happy every single second of every single day doesn't mean you're not a happy person, either. It's great how you can find the positive in difficult situations and unpleasant people, and how you take pleasure in even the smallest things in life.
Katrina, JB, and Ambrosia--thank you. Sometimes, when I'm in my nastiest snit, it's nice to know some people can see the person I want to be--especially people I love and admire as I do you.
Oh, honey, I believe that I know exactly how you feel. It's devastating to think that you're doing fine, that you're strong, that you're over the past, and then find that you're kinda dysfunctional and you wonder if other people knew this already and just weren't telling you.
Self-realisations are hard but what I tell myself is that in five years, in ten years, I will be so much further ahead than my peers. Because my trials forced me to work SO FREAKIN' HARD.
The fact that you are gifted at self-analysis and able to admit your faults and that you dream of brighter things (I feel like I'm writing this to myself), means that you will triumph.
Ya, people with a lot of baggage are always down about that, at least for some period of time. It's a part of the grieving process and how dare anyone else judge who has not walked in your shoes?
Sometimes we just need to vent and to have someone say back to us that they STILL LOVE US even though we're in a nasty snit.
There's a quote by C.S. Lewis that I lovelovelove (are you ready? It's really long):
"If you are a nice person-- if virtue comes easily to you-- beware! Much is expected from those to whom much is given. If you mistake for you own merits what are really God's gifts to you through nature, and if you are contented with simply being nice, you are still a rebel: and all those gifts will only make your fall more terrible, your corruption more complicated, your bad example more disastrous... But if you are a poor creature-- poisoned by a wretched upbringing in some house full of vulgar jealousies and senseless quarrels-- saddled, by no choice of your own, with some loathsome sexual perversion-- nagged day in and day out by an inferiority complex that makes you snap at your best friends-- do not despair. He knows all about it. You are one of the poor whom He blessed. He knows what a wretched machine you are trying to drive. Keep on. Do what you can. One day (perhaps in another world but perhaps for sooner than that) He will fling it on the scrap heap and give you a new one. And then you may astonish us all-- not least yourself: for you have learned your driving in a hard school. (Some of the last will be first and some of the first will be last)."
Isn't that awesome? When we get to the C.K., which we will, we will be so much the better off because while it looked, on earth, like we weren't getting very far at times, we were actually RUNNING while other people were just walking. We built up super strong muscles so that when our baggage was removed, we could surpass those with weaker muscles.
High five, sista.
Natasha
BecomingSomething.com
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