Every move I make feels like the wrong one. No that’s not entirely true. I make some good moves, but there are so many that I am told are the wrong ones and I end up second guessing and over analyzing every other move. That’s not a good way to live. To constantly wonder if I’m in the right or the wrong, to feel as though I am never really good enough and yet too good in other areas. Filtering and pulling back are not my strong suits.
It’s causing a block in my writing. It’s causing rifts in my friendships. It’s starting to weigh my relationship down too. I feel as though I am far too much for everyone else to handle and therefore no one is brave enough to step up and help tame me and I don’t know that I have the resources to tame myself very well. Like the blind leading the blind, I stumble and fall far more often than I would like to admit.
I hold my breath and wait for the world to right itself, and wonder if I’m supposed to move it into alignment myself or just wait… In the meantime I flutter from here to there, trying to find my niche. I feel alone in a room full of people. I feel anxious when I am all by myself. I feel as though I am everything wrong in the world and drama follows me. It’s gotten so bad that I have lowered my defenses and am just allowing the arrows shot at me to land, thinking that I deserve them or at least the vast majority of them.
How am I supposed to get through this without writing about it? How am I supposed to survive this world without a group of friends who love me enough to be honest with me and not hate me for all of my mistakes? Am I even making that many mistakes? I thought my marriage was okay. I knew we had problems, but I wouldn’t allow myself to see the extent of how bad it really was. I spent the last seven years hiding under a bushel of lies and trying to make it work anyway. I worked so hard to make it work anyway. I let him abuse me, I let him cheat and shit all over the relationship. I let him use me, degrade me, hate me. I convinced myself that I deserved the negativity that he poured out on me. I walked on eggshells around my own home trying not to upset the delicate balance that was there.
I know that I am not the only one struggling. Hurting. Trying to make my way in this cold and dark world. I know that my children are hurting too. I feel like I’ve failed them in so many ways. As though I should have seen him for the monster he was…
Abandoned. That’s how it feels. I feel like I’ve been abandoned. Dropped off in the middle of the world with more baggage than I can carry alone and told to march. No idea where I am headed or how the hell I am supposed to get there, but I have been given marching orders and I am determined to try and succeed here.
Life moves on. And we either move with it or we get covered up by the dust of others who are choosing to keep marching forward. I don’t know where I am going. I don’t know how I am getting there. I just know that I have responsibilities to care for, my children, myself, our hearts (as best as I can care for those anyway) and my sanity. These are the things that matter. And while I have no idea what the hell I am doing…. I’m going to try anyway. It’s all I can do… get up, clean myself off, and keep going. Now the only question is… how do I do that?