Day 169: Between the Raindrops
I want to thank Jiva for pointing me in the direction of the exercise I will undertake tonight. But first, I need to admit one more fear, a fear underneath and driving the others, a fear I didn't recognize last night.
- I'm afraid after this weekend she'll be done with me.
- What will happen: My needs are infantile. I can't help it. She'll decide I'm too much work and the friendship will be over.
- I don't think it will happen. I trust her. I love her. She loves me too. I need to trust love. It's just so scary to believe I could be worthy of the dedication and support she offers. She is so very good to me. Being worthy of such love is an excruciating hope to feel.
- This is an intense fear. I know it's unreasonable. It's just so difficult to pit my current trust in her against a lifetime of agonizing betrayal and abuse. But, I shouldn't look at it that way. It is not THEN against NOW. It is only NOW. Only the love I feel today.
I have been fighting a war inside me over whether or not what happened to me really qualifies as bad. Back on March 24th I wrote the following phrases coming from the voices in my head. I decided to let those awful voices speak their mind. I wanted to see their words in black and white, so I could confront them. The thing is, I didn't end up confronting them, and they have been festering.
- What happened to you was next to nothing. It was wrong, but not really such a big deal as you make it out to be.
- You have always been successful and happy. That wouldn't be true if something terrible happened to you.
- You never said anything to anyone. It must not have been that bad if you were able to keep it a secret.
- You knew no one would believe you because what you are saying happened isn't true at all.
- If those things really happened, someone would have noticed.
- You were ugly and small. No wonder people picked on you.
- You always wanted attention and would do anything for it. Well, that's what you got, attention.
- You put yourself into your circumstances. You got what you deserved.
- You have no talent and nothing to offer.
- You act nice because it's the only way people can stand to be around you.
- You wanted men to touch you so you could feel important.
- You let those girls touch you because you wanted to know what it would feel like.
- You were always so immature.
- You took on too much responsibility. You thought you were high and mighty. Others had to put you in your place in order to get a word in edgewise.
- You hid yourself away. No one wants to be friends with someone who is so shy.
- You were just plain weird. No wonder people kept their distance. They wouldn't have beat you up if you hadn't been so weird.
- Your brain is slow and full of holes. You are wasting your time and everyone else's trying to be better than you are meant to be.
- You enjoyed spending time with your step-father. No wonder he responded the way he did.
- You just want other people to tell you you're worthwhile. You're begging for anyone's approval.
- You act so strong, but in reality you're a weakling.
What happened to me was horrible. What all of those abusers did to me, and the neglect I experienced from my parents, was intensely painful and damaging. I have scars: both physical and emotional. I have not exaggerated the history. If anything, I have held back.
I didn't want any of it. I just wanted to be loved. I wanted to be held. I wanted to be safe. I wanted to matter, even if only a little bit. I did want attention. I needed it. I accepted the harms done to me if they meant receiving some modicum of approval and faux-caring. I took responsibility for all of it so I could continue to live my life. Somehow if it was my doing, my choice, my fault, I could go on every day and become better. I could be better than the choices from my past.
And, my goodness, I was so little. Not just young, but tiny. I barely existed at all. I didn't need much. There was such a little bit of me, I only needed a little bit of love.
Somehow, if I ran fast enough, I could run between the rain drops. But, they're not rain drops, they're tears. And, I have to let them touch me.