I was cleaning out my computer last week, only to discover a treasure trove of videos. Of me...of My Alcoholic...of our interactions...of things I documented to try and prove a point...only I forgot to show them to him somehow. Among them was a 40 minute video- a message I made for him (back in mid-April when we were still together). Of how his drinking made me feel and about everything I was thinking. I've edited it down to the most important and relevant parts- the parts that perhaps anyone with an alcoholic loved one can relate to. And I share this with you because getting everything out in the open is helping me heal. Sharing the cause of so much heartache and the words and feelings that have come from it gives me a sense of freedom, as I'm no longer protecting this person or hiding the truth of how they've effected me, yet refraining from slander or public humiliation by withholding their identity as anything else but a suffering person who has a problem. I hope that anyone in my position who happens to watch this will feel understood and supported.
TO MY ALCOHOLIC:
I have yet to show this to him, but will show him the extended version soon along with the footage of him and his behavior. I don't expect this to suddenly make him stop being an alcoholic. I don't expect this to make him love me more or tell me how wrong he was. I simply hope that the images of nights he does not recall will stay with him and remind him of what he wants for himself, that he may continue on his journey to health with the extra knowledge and potential extra motivation. I don't want him to change for me. I want him to change for his future. I want to be the last person in his life to ever have to say these kinds of things. It's not about turning him into the man I want him to be. It's about him being the kind of significant other, family member, and friend, that HE seems to want to be. And reality and truth can only help both of us.
This is out of my control, but I can still offer my honesty.
Love
is gentle, love is patient, love is kind. My mistake is not picking. My mistake is not being a "doormat";
it's not giving myself enough love...enough gentleness, patience, or
kindness.
I will be patient with myself. I will allow myself to make mistakes without being hard on myself. And I will stop being hard on myself for the mistakes of the past. I will embrace my imperfections rather than be critical of myself. I will be kind to myself. I will treat myself the way I treat others. I will love myself the way I love others. I will look in the mirror and know I am special and something wonderful. With or without picking. With or without the love of the one I'm missing. I will be gentle with myself. I will baby myself through this hard time. I will treat myself as though I am sick, and surround myself with the metaphorical chicken soup of self-love and forgiveness. I will tend to my needs the way I would tend to the needs of others. I am a walking wound to be wrapped. I am old bones to be laid to rest. I will heal.
The shock I've been in for the past couple of years- of how fast things happened and how rapidly they turned sour in the face of alcohol- wiped my memory clean. As previously mentioned, I ended up in a denial where I tried to force solutions by simply accepting things and forsaking my boundaries in the interest of keeping the peace and protecting my loved one. Though my picking began before that, I know that the inner identity crisis I've been dealing with as a codependent has made it worse. Sometimes I feel like a blank slate....as though the pain I've been caused and have caused myself turned me into a sponge; I absorbed, but didn't emit my own frequency. I was frozen in a mode of accepting everything and not putting my foot down. I've been trying to regain my footing. Trying to recall who I am and what I'm about. The little things and big things that make me "Me".
This is part of my trying to heal. This is for my benefit specifically, so if you're not in the mood for random facts about a potential stranger, feel free to stop reading. Otherwise, this is me:
I prefer not to share my real name, but you can call me Mary. That's my
grandmother's name, and I think she is one of the most wonderful women
in the world. I really look up to her for her gentleness and patience. She really knows how to love, and I hope I can learn to love a fraction of how much she can. This is her when she was around my age. Isn't she lovely? And that's nothing compared to how beautiful she is on the inside.
My admiration for her is a significant part of who I am and how I try to handle situations. I also feel like some of the traits she has are innate for me, or at least ones I picked up at a young enough age to where they are a relatively natural part of me.
I declare myself a strong and independent woman. But right now I am a walking contradiction, because I haven't been feeling or acting very strong or independent sometimes. But you know what? That's okay. I'm doing the best I can. And I'm doing better every day. I am also learning as I go.
I love blueberries, rice and chiles, and dark chocolate.
Also, I'm a sucker for Italian food.
I love the smell of rain.
I don't like water in my eyes or on my face. But rain on my face is okay for some reason.
David Arkenstone music is the soundtrack to my life.
This is one of my favorite songs, and it's best when listened to alone in the dark with the volume as loud as it can go:
I have wild hair and love to dress wild like a tribal princess or a gypsy queen.
But I'm quite easy to please.
If you want me to like you, keep your word and be kind. Don't hurt other people.
I am innocent, but love to swear like a ghetto diva.
I love to write and create with my hands.
Thrift shopping is a grand treasure hunt. I try not to do it too much.
This is a necklace I made and feel very proud of:
Simple pleasures are my joy, as is loving others.
I am normally strong and stand my ground when people mistreat me.
But I also am learning that I'm a little more lenient these days than I'd like to be.
I want equality and health for all people.
I am loyal.
I am an introvert, but I sometimes get lonely because I don't feel that the love I give is reflected by very many.
I think I want to be a teacher; specifically, and English teacher. I love to write.
I hope to be a writer someday as well.
And a seamstress.
And a singer.
And a dancer.
And an actress.
And a classy chef.
And have my own boutique with my clothes and jewelry.
And be a farmer.
All at once.
Yes.
I love earth tones, and feel mysterious when I wear black.
I don't like makeup, but I love to put shiny or colorful things on my lips.
My lips and eyes are some of my favorite physical characteristics about myself.
A good pair of eyes can make my heart flutter.
I believe that most people mean well even if they aren't so nice.
There are few things you can do to upset me.
I love to walk and ride my bike.
I secretly think driving just isn't meant for me. This may derive from the fact that I hit the mail box my first time behind the wheel...I accidentally hit the gas instead of the brakes.
I'm not very coordinated. I confuse left and right and I think I'm dyslexic sometimes.
If I could live anywhere, it would be on a small farm near the woods and mountains.
My scratching is my least favorite trait about myself.
I know I'm young, but I sometimes have a strong desire for a life partner and kids.
I want two kids. One boy and one girl. So I can treat them equally.
I want a man who doesn't drink, even if he used to.
I want a man who doesn't let temptations get the better of him or place a lot of importance on sex.
I want a man who cares about love more than anything in a relationship...in a healthy way of course.
He will accept all my flaws and quirks, as I will his.
He will be wholesome and not be afraid to express himself despite social influences that men should be stoic figures of nothing but strength.
I want someone who would bend over as far backward for me as I would for them.
I've always had the idea in my head that I would be married at the age of 24, and I'm not sure why that is.
If I could be any animal, I would be a cheetah...or some kind of bird that can fly....of a flying cheetah with jingly coins on my feathers.
I want to take voice lessons and dance lessons.
Sewing my own clothes is a dream of mine.
I want to learn to play an instrument, but I'm not sure if I'm too lazy to actually do it or not.
Living off the land is another dream of mine.
The world (I believe) is falling to pieces and going to shit, and I'm afraid to watch.
Big earrings can make or break an outfit....so can a smile.
I love triscuits and corn chips.
Sunflower seeds are another weakness of mine.
And cheese.
If my body reflected my eating sometimes, I would be terribly fat.
But I do try to take care of myself.
I accept that I will never know everything, and that I learn more every day.
I have always wondered how it would feel to be pregnant, but I sometimes wonder if I could handle the pain...and the demands of caring for a wrinkly, screaming raisin creature who gets hungry every two hours.
Sometimes I feel old and cynical, and more intelligent than a majority of the American population.
Sometimes I feel like a lost little girl in a very large world, and like I don't know shit.
My boundaries are unclear right now. But I do know that if you hurt me, I will never forget it, even if I do forgive.
In fact, I think that my boundaries are a topic for another post...one devoted solely to them.
I know I'm a good girl.
I know I deserve good things.
And I know I will heal.
I stumbled upon this list today on About.com and found it helpful and educational. Hopefully posting it again will put it in the path of someone else who may need it:
"Those of us who live or have lived with active
alcoholics or addicts find that we have been deeply affected by the
experience. Many times, the frustration and stress that we feel can be
caused by our own actions and choices. By adjusting our approach and our
attitude toward the problem, we find that we can place it in a
difference perspective, so that it no longer dominates our thoughts and
our lives. Here are 10 things that you can stop doing that may help
relieve the pressure.
1. Blaming Yourself
It's
typical for alcoholics to try to blame their drinking on circumstances
or others around them, including those who are closest to them. It's not
unusual to hear an alcoholic say, "The only reason I drink is because
you..." Don't buy into it. If your loved one is truly an alcoholic, they
are going to drink no matter what you do or say. It's not your fault.
They have become dependent on alcohol, and nothing is going to get between them and their drug of choice.
2. Taking It Personally
When alcoholics
promise they will never drink again, but a short time later are back to
drinking as much as always, it is easy for family members to take the
broken promises and lies personally. You may tend to think, "If they
really love me, they wouldn't lie to me." But if they have become truly
addicted to alcohol, their brain chemistry may have changed to the point that they are completely surprised by some of the choices
they make. They may not be in control of their own decision making.
3. Trying to Control It
Many family members of alcoholics naturally try everything they can think of
to get their loved one to stop drinking. Unfortunately, this usually
results in leaving the alcoholic's family members feeling lonely and
frustrated. You may tell yourself that surely there is something that
you can do, but the reality is not even alcoholics can control their
drinking, try as they may.
4. Trying to Cure It
Make no mistake about it, alcoholism, or alcohol dependence, is a primary, chronic and progressive disease
that sometimes can be fatal. You are not a healthcare professional. You
are not a trained substance-abuse counselor. You just happen to love
someone who is probably going to need professional treatment to get
healthy again. That's the alcoholic's responsibility, not yours. You
can't cure a disease.
5. Covering It Up
There is a joke in recovery circles about an alcoholic in denial
who screams, "I don't have a problem, so don't tell anyone!" Alcoholics
typically do not want anyone to know the level of their alcohol
consumption because if someone found out the full extent of the problem,
they might try to help! If family members try to "help" the alcoholic
by covering up for their drinking and making excuses for them, they are
playing right into the alcoholic's denial game. Dealing with the problem
openly and honestly is the best approach.
6. Accepting Unacceptable Behavior
It
usually begins with some small incident that family members brush off
with, "They just had too much to drink." But the next time, the behavior
may get a little bit worse and then even worse. You slowly begin to
accept more and more unacceptable behavior. Before you realize it, you
can find yourself in a full-blown abusive relationship. Abuse is never acceptable. You do not have to accept unacceptable behavior in your life. You do have choices.
7. Having Unreasonable Expectations
One problem in dealing with an alcoholic is that what might seem like a reasonable expectation in some circumstances, might be totally unreasonable
with an addict. When alcoholics swear to you and to themselves that
they will never touch another drop, you might naturally expect that they
are sincere and they won't drink again. But with alcoholics, that
expectation turns out to be unreasonable. Is it reasonable to expect
someone to be honest with you when they are incapable of even being
honest with himself or herself?
8. Living in the Past
The
key to dealing with alcoholism in the family is staying focused on the
situation as it exists right now, today. Alcoholism is a progressive disease.
It doesn't reach a certain level and remain there for very long; it
continues to get worse until the alcoholic seeks help. You can't allow
the disappointments and mistakes of the past affect your choices today,
because circumstances have probably changed.
9. Enabling
Often, well-meaning loved ones,
in trying to "help," will actually do something that enables alcoholics
to continue along their destructive paths. Find out what enabling is
and make sure that you are not doing anything that bolsters the
alcoholic's denial or prevents them from facing the natural consequences
of their actions. Many an alcoholic has finally reached out for help
when they realized their enabling system was no longer in place.
10. Putting Off Getting Help
After
years of covering up for the alcoholic and not talking about "the
problem" outside the family, it may seem daunting to reach out for help
from a support group such as Al-Anon Family Groups.
But millions have found solutions that lead to serenity inside those
meetings. Going to an Al-Anon meeting is one of those things that once
you do it, you say, "I should have done this years ago!""
I am recovering from the effects of alcohol, yet have never had more than one watered-down drink in my life. It's rather ironic. But loving an alcoholic has done damage to my mind. I blame him not. He is ill. And I have to understand that all I can do it heal myself, and realize that I am powerless to heal him. Along with the hurtful words and unwanted feelings of pain, I accidentally swept many other things under the rug- my sense of self, part of my independence, my ability to trust, my ability to be in the moment and not worry about the future...so many things. But I'm getting them back little by little. They were only a temporary loss. It's as though when things started to go wrong, they went into hiding. I became a sponge. A puppet. My scratching was likely the only unique thing about me. But as I learn that it all basically comes with the territory of being a codependent, I realize I am being too hard on myself. I am ill too. That spineless girl is not me. I am simply going through a hard time and am not well. I'm starting to reflect, which indicates to me that I'm headed in some sort of direction toward healing, change, and recovery.
When did I lose sense of what acceptable boundaries are?
I think it was the first time something happened and I tried to force a solution by simply accepting the behavior.
When did I begin to think that love meant self-sacrifice?
I think it was watching my mother make sacrifices for my father, myself, and my five siblings.
When did I start making excuses for other people and stop taking care of myself as much?
I think it was the moment I realized I loved another person so much that I didn't want anyone else to think or say anything negative about them. So I protected them.
When did I decide that his healing and well-being were more important than mine, that I should place him first? When did I get it in my head that that is what being a good mate meant?
I think it's simply in my nature to put the health of others as a high priority. To the point that I forget I have my own to consider.
When did I take selflessness and twist it into a morbid relative to itself? An unhealthy cousin.
I think it was the moment I grew afraid of losing him to alcohol and began trying to play tug-o-war: He was the rope, and alcoholism and I were each trying to pull him toward us; me toward the safety of health and alcoholism toward the chains and bondage. I tried to fight a battle that wasn't mine because I was afraid he wasn't strong enough to win himself.
Did I really just want that bad for him to get better that I placed myself on the back burner?
Yes. Yes I did. And it would still make my heart soar to see him healthy one day, no matter how I've been hurt by him.
But I believe that it would make his heart just as happy to see me healthy too. My codependency and picking have become so intertwined- a macrame noose.I am hanging myself the longer I let this all continue.
And still I argue that I should be patient and show nothing but love. Still I argue that he's sick and doesn't have control. And that's why I've put up with any of it. But at least I know now that none of it's my fault....that zero percent of his behavior is because I did something wrong or wasn't good enough. And for putting up with mistreatment, I say shame on me. But gentle shame. I did what I thought was right. I tried to be selfless. I tried to help.
Now I know better.
The one I love is a sinking ship. And I cannot swim. I need to jump into a lifeboat and get myself to safety. And if he's meant to be saved, he will save himself. Because I cannot. And I'm sorry. I truly am. I tried my very best. But I can't help but feel sometimes that I failed. That if I were stronger, smarter, healthier, I could have done more to help him. Turns out maybe the best way to help him is to simply help myself and let him learn to help himself.
I will listen to the silence, and my heart will tell me.
But for now, all I know is that I'm traveling onward.
Healing doesn't mean I have to forget about him.
It doesn't mean I need to flip him the bird and never again see his face or speak to him.
It doesn't mean I need to go seek comfort in the arms of other men who are healthy.
I don't need to kill my love for him to get better. If anything,
having that kind of powerful feeling within will aid my journey toward
healing, because I feel connected to a force greater than myself.
If I have the power within to love that hard, I have the power within to heal. Healing means I have to accept what I've been handed and embrace what I can, but understand that I have to make healthy choices to put myself in healthy situations.
I will heal.
He will heal.
If we allow the healing to happen, that is.
And maybe one day.....Maybe one day...
Whatever is meant to happen will happen.
I feel like there's a song for this somewhere in my arsenal...ah, yes.
Here:
SLIP AWAY by DAVID ARKENSTONE:
"The seasons change
And age our temporary souls
Chasing fate
Along it's winding road
Flames burn bright and pass into smoke
But our love
Will dance among the stars
Down the streets of gold
I am bound to you
By more than what divides us
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
Into an endless dream
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
Then you can rescue me
Close your eyes
And drift into a shining memory
I'll see you again where the sky touches the sea
And with your love
You've painted vivid colors on my heart
Your light will always illuminate my dark
I am bound to you
By more than what divides us
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
Into an endless dream
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
Then you can rescue me
Close your eyes
And drift into a shining memory
I'll see you again where the sky touches the sea
The seasons change
And age our temporary souls
Chasing fate
Along it's winding road"
I pray anyone who reads will take my words and apply any to their lives that seem suitable...in the hopes that I may help them while I try to help myself...
Self-Love (in my humble opinion), is about accepting yourself for who you are, but working to change those traits about yourself and your life that may be poisoning your well-being. My healing is not a simple matter of habit reversal training or some outside force. I believe it is a matter of inner peace that must begin at the core of my very soul and spread out like ripples.
I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness lately.
About forgiving others.
But mostly, about forgiving myself.
I let bad things happen.
I allowed my ex boyfriend to mistreat me and didn’t
leave.
In slightly younger years, I forced myself to follow a
religion I didn’t believe in, and feel that I should have been smarter than to
fall prey to the sexism and blatant lies I was told.
In every instance that I have trouble forgiving myself for,
my thought is “I should have been smarter”, and my excuse is “But I loved them”. But it doesn't change that I allowed people to remain in my life that harmed me, and I am responsible for it.
My parents weren’t
right to force a religion on me that told me I had fewer capabilities, rights,
and less value than men. But I went
along with it long past the time I realized it wasn’t right because I loved
them , didn’t want to disappoint them, and wanted to keep the peace in the
family. If I went against their religion, I would surely lose them on some
level. And I have. Some of my relatives are no longer comfortable with me being
around their children because I am “worldly”, and no one in the family trusts
me as much.
And for a long time I tried to make up for it every day by
educating myself on the other problems women faced in the world. I became
obsessed with it. I felt that to make up for putting up with it, I had to fight
every day until I had changed for other people what had taken a shot at my
self-worth.
But the more I fought, the less at peace I was. I found that
I had to let go and realize that all I could do about it was live my life as I
saw fit and help those who came my way rather than trying to change the world
with arguments and daily Facebook posts about social injustices.
And I must do the
same thing now, having recently exited a relationship where I wasn’t being
treated properly.
His actions, whether due to being drunk or not, weren’t what
I deserved. And I think every day about how I stayed far beyond the point at
which I should have run. And the reason is the same: I loved him, and I wanted
to keep the peace, and I didn’t want to lose him. Additionally, I thought
leaving meant I had to stop loving him and abandon him in a time of need. I
thought it meant giving up and being weak. I thought it would make me a bad
person to leave someone who was obviously ill and struggling with his alcohol
issue. I would always think of The Little Red Hen. No one helped her bake the bread, so they all got snubbed in the end and missed out on the delicious result. I figured if I wanted to be a part of my boyfriend's life when he got better, I needed to help him in the present. And with a bright mind and the bit of inner child-like innocence I often sensed in him, I knew it wasn't a future I wanted to miss out on to be there when he broke free from the chains of addiction that bound him to misery and irritability. My heart told me he was a good boy and didn't mean to hurt me. As did he. Every time I got upset with him, he'd say "You know I'm trying". And I would stop and feel terrible for considering leaving when he seemed to be trying so hard. I'd never had a drink. How could I possibly understand how hard it was to quit? And when I put it into perspective by how hard it was for me to quit my picking, I felt like I had no room to judge. Sometimes I looked in his eyes when he was drunk and literally saw a little boy who looked lost and afraid and just needed someone's hand to hold while he struggled. A little boy who didn't like the situation any more than I did and was just as hurt by it. How could I leave? I had to prove my patience. After all, good things come to those who wait, right? I had to prove to myself that I was strong, and that my love was real. And my love for him was very real. However, my love for myself was sacrificed. And in this time frame, most especially in the second year of our relationship, my scratching got worse. It was my coping mechanism. It was my outlet (rather than confronting him angrily) for the things he did that I thought he was working on changing and therefore couldn't be mad at him for. I thought that it wasn't as bad as his alcohol, and therefore acceptable. But I became just another person who was mistreating "Me".
I do not place blame on him for me attacking my skin more in this time frame, however.
He is not the one who put his hands to my skin and made me bleed. He caused some of the inner "bleeding" that led to the outer attack, but I could have responded differently. I know I have to take full responsibility for increased scratching being my response to his actions. I had plenty of other options. I could have left. But I cared more about him getting better and figured that as he did, I would.
But that's not how it works.
And I now find myself in the difficult spot of trying to forgive myself for every scar on my body. And stopping creating them for that matter. Yes, my love for myself was truly sacrificed.
And that’s what I do.
I sacrifice myself when I love others.
Family. Lovers. Friends.
And sometimes when I realize what I allowed to happen to me in my relationship,
I again fight it. I have to prove to myself that I can stand up for myself. I
have to prove that I’m not just a doormat. And sometimes, in my effort to do
what I feel I should have done before, I go overboard. I yell, I say things I
don’t mean and dump a heap of anger at the feet of my former lover to make up for my past reactions of silence over things that I was too shocked to respond properly to because I never thought someone would treat me that way.
That's another trait of mine I want to work on.
I overcompensate.
And then I take a step back, and realize that I’m behaving
no better toward him than he behaved toward me to cause my outburst.
And I stop and breathe.
And I feel rotten and think about my words.
And I apologize and ask forgiveness.
And not once have I been told I’ve been denied that
forgiveness.
And I thank him for that.
Perhaps this goes back to the self-love concept.
If I really loved myself, would I let these things happen to
me?
It’s possible.
I do love myself, though not as I
should.
I enjoy my own company more than the company of any other person.
I love to laugh at silly things I do and buy myself chocolate and treat myself to small, pretty things and new experiences when I can.
I love to baby myself when I'm sick or unhappy, and I love cleaning and soothing my skin after I mess up and scratch.
And my favorite trait about myself is how much I love other people and have compassion for them.
And yet I allowed others to mistreat me, as though I have no compassion for myself.
The only time I let them go very far is when I love the
person.
If I don’t love that person, I’m much better about asserting
myself, though still far too kind.
I find that few people love the way I do, stuck up as that may sound.
And because few people reflect the love I feel I'm giving, I sometimes feel unloved, even when I'm told I am cared for. I feel alone. And sometimes I wonder if that contributes to my scratching.
I think what it boils down to is this:
I need to relax.
I need to breathe.
I need to look in the
mirror and say:
“Dear Self (past, present, and future), I
love you and I forgive you. Your love and approval is the only love and approval you need in this world.You are a sweet, beautiful, gentle creature. You did what you thought was best in the situations
fate handed you. You didn't know what else to do. You love in ways some people don’t know how. You have a big
heart, and sometimes that big heart gets so focused on loving others that it forgets
you need love too. Be selfish once in a while. Show a bit of vanity and self-love. Let others see it so well that they might get uncomfortable. Give yourself a kiss and a hug, because in the end, you are all you have.”
Why Is Self-Forgiveness Important? An army divided against itself will struggle. An army of one against itself is defenseless. If you don't support yourself, no one will. If you don't love yourself, it doesn't matter if anyone else does.
Someone once told me: "You have so much love inside. If you loved yourself the way you loved others, amazing things would happen."
I want amazing things to happen.
I think those amazing things could include getting a handle on how I treat my skin.
I believe that inner peace leads to outer peace.
Inner wounds, like outer ones, heal best when acknowledged, but not bothered and made to bleed. They must be tended to with gentle kindness, not aggression. And the healing must happen inside before being reflected outwardly.
I think important things anyone can ask themselves for inner peace are:
Do you love yourself?
Are there things happening in your life presently that are disturbing your peace?
Are there things you need to forgive yourself for?
Are there things you need to forgive others for?
Are there people in your life that are bad influences?
Do they put your healing as a low priority?
Do they help you make healthy decisions?
Do they take advantage of you?
Should the people in your life be as deep in your life as they are?
Have they earned the right to be there by treating you properly?
And if not, have amends been made for any harm they've done to you?
I've heard it said that forgiving someone doesn't mean they deserved to be forgiven. Forgiving someone should happen because you deserve inner peace over it.
I deserve inner peace.
I want to get well and move on from scratching.
I will forgive:
My family.
Myself.
Him.
They are not bad people. And they didn't necessarily mean to hurt me.
My parents did what they thought was best. And I will love them even if they don't accept my life choices. From a distance.
And rather than judge and hold a grudge against my former lover, I should take what I know from my compulsive behavior and do my best to understand how hard it is to stop drinking. Rather than pointing fingers, support should be offered. From a distance.
I will love them all anyway. Because real love doesn't stop just because someone disagrees with your life choices. Because real love doesn't stop just because someone makes a poor decision or goes through a hard time.
I will heal.
But I know I can only heal myself.
And I'm doing my best.
Since I've started trying to change my mindset and response, I've found
myself climbing up out of the pit of depression little by little, and my
skin is looking fantastic today for that matter.
The condition of my skin is the fault of no one else. Though it's not entirely my fault either. But the only one who placed her hands on me was me. And that's what counts. I have to sit down with the girl inside and talk with her about a few things. And I do sometimes. She can be laconic at times. Other times we have much to discuss. Either way, I need to treat her better.
Rather than say "You should have been smarter", I will say "You did the best I could".
The finger pointing, in all areas, needs to stop.
The holding on to things for fear I will forget them and forget what happened to me and not learn from them, needs to be handled in a different way.
But one thing will remain the same.
And that's the reason behind my actions.
Love.
Only next time, Love will be my reason for leaving a bad situation rather than trying to stick it out for the other person.
Self Love.
