Why do we reach out to those that have harmed us?
Is it somehow an innate desire inside that they will change and see the error of their ways and realize that after years of degrading us, we’re actua lly worth something?
Dad used to scold me for my self-worth being low, but he kept contributing to it by making fun of my weight, or my bleeding issues. Â How could a Registered Nurse be so cruel, knowing, as a biology major, that the health issues I have are pretty severe?
The truth is, they weren’t severe because he didn’t want to foot the doctor bill. Â Years later, they’re severe, only because now, I take care of myself, and should somehow cough up the money to see a doctor.
And still, I reach out begging for help, asking him for money I desperately need. Â And of course, he doesn’t disappoint, and I’m sent into another emotional malestrom simply because I wanted a helping hand. Â I would have been fine if I hadn’t asked, but my room mate insisted I ask. Â I wish she’d mind her goddamned business.
Eventually, I say this, often, and Soon.
Eventually and soon, my time will come. Â I will have more than what I have now. Â I will be able to take a hot shower instead of having to carry water for a cold bath. Â Eventually and soon my power will be cut back on. Â Eventually and soon, I will have enough to eat. Â Eventually and soon I won’t have to stay up all night worrying and in pain from sciatica.
Eventually and soon, God will care. Â Eventually and soon, he will send relief. Â Eventually and soon things will look up.
But no, they’re not.
Every five steps forward I take four back. Â Most of the pain is caused by the Freudian desire for the people I look up to to acknowledge that I exist and belong, and I don’t belong, and it is the issue that I do exist.
They would prefer me not to be here. Â How could they prefer me not to be here? Â I am so much fun, so much comedy and laughs, and energy and personality that men fall in love with me, but only want a fuck buddy. Â Serious ones want instant wedding bells, and I can’t commit in just a few months because I have trust issues. Â So they run off, and within a month get engaged, while the men who give me the space I need screw around and break my heart.
In the solitary confines of my brain, I cry as I listen to classical piano. Â The only escape I have from my sorrow consists of trips to the local wifi hotspots to drink coffee, and watch YouTube videos as I bawl into my java.
Eventually, soon.
1 comment
Control freaks are masters of guilt trips, double-standards, and invalid shifting of blame.
You have to understand that when most women tell a guy that they “need space,” that almost always means an impending break up, or even that another relationship has already begun.
People almost always pick what they think is the best option. If a guy thinks he has a better chance of getting what he wants from someone else, that’s probably what he’ll do. Same for women.
Everyone’s scurrying around in a rush to get somewhere, whether to the top of the food chain, the chapel, or the next lay.
OTOH, stopping to smell the roses seems to be synonymous with dropping out of the race. Once out of the race, winning is impossible. You’d be lucky to even finish, if you can even get going again.