Friday, March 9, 2012

Saboteur

I ruin everything.  And if I can't destroy it; I will walk away from it.  Abandon whatever good is left.

I've not been feeling well, not eating well, and now treating my lover less than kindly.  After talking to my BFF I feel like I may not be over-reacting.  It always feels better to talk to her.  Justified.

And somehow I feel like staying.

In my attempt to regain control, I took an honest inventory of our finances.  I know exactly how much money we owe, how much we spend, and how much we earn.  I thought this would calm down my racing anxieties.  But shockingly - (sarcasm) - it did not.  And now I'm doing that thing again where I am taking inventory of how many calories I eat.

 And now I have a gym membership too. 

So, let us begin.  All over again...

This is exhausting but somehow comforting, like coming home to your criticizing mother.  Familiar. 

This is all I can write for now.

1 comment:

  1. I have fight or flight response issues as well. I often run from things as opposed to confronting them because I was conditioned, from a very early age, to believe that confrontation equals emotional turmoil frequently accompanied by physical pain. I would leave, self-sabotage, destroy, abandon and just give up too soon at the slightest hint of trouble. Poof. I was gone. I lived in seclusion for about a year. I lived on the streets for a month when I was 17. I never ran away from the situation that caused me the most agony. After I was out of that situation, I ran from everything.
    When I confessed to someone that I was afraid to get married because it meant now I couldn't just leave...I had to stay. I heard what I said. I heard the fear, anxiety and resentment in my own voice. I knew why I ran. I left so that someone wouldn't leave me. I abandoned people because I couldn't trust that they wouldn't do the same. I destroyed things before they fell apart. I sabotage my own success because I won't be successful, I don't deserve to be. As much as I want to believe I'm strong & that I have it together, I'm weak...and flawed. I'm as okay as I can be with who I am.
    I have started ridiculous breathing exercises to help with my anxiety. I "smell the roses and blow the candles". Sound ridiculous? Yeah, it feels ridiculous too. While doing it yesterday I had a tiny synapse in my brain scream out with it's teeny tiny voice, "you're out of your mind!". I felt completely out of control of my emotions, crying in the employee bathroom at work over something so seemingly insignificant. I felt crazy. Out of control. Control in and of itself can be controlling. I think about submitting, letting life take it's course. It's easier said than done. I've come to a point where I can at least admit I am, in fact, a control freak. Which, is not to say that I'm a controlling person. Maybe I am. I don't know. I have tried to live a life of chaos. I can't. I accept that I can only control so much. Taking the reins and holding tight reminds me how exhausting it is to constantly steer, but that knowing where I'm going is certainly more productive (and yes, comforting as well) than aimlessly, purposelessly wandering.
    When I think of my personal struggles with fight or flight, I think about wild animals. Specifically, I think of people taming wild horses. Horse whisperers. In this scenario, I compare myself to the wild horse, who has never been this close to people, never had contact like this. The panicked, darting eyes looking for escape. The rearing back, ready to run or kick. The shying away. The process is long and involves trust-building more than anything else.
    Tiny...subtle...movements...

    ReplyDelete