Antithesis

They say what doesn't kill you will make you stronger.

I say sometimes a part of you needs to die in order to find strength and appreciate growth.

Last week, I faced such a death. Am I stronger? Not yet.

Have I learned something? Fuck yes. A lot actually ... so why keep such a lesson to myself if it can be taught to others, right? Or maybe I just need to make my thoughts tangible so tapping out some bullshit here will be helpful to my own process. Whatever it is, I suggest you do not continue reading if your ears are folded into some bible of lady-like talk and the reality of life is something you cannot fuckin' handle because it makes you second-guess your own self. Also, if you do not understand that words like "bullshit" and "fuckery" can be used in a flexible connotation, you're probably not cut out for reading this either.

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In my 20's I was still trying to have or reclaim my childhood. I was seeking attention, avoiding responsibility, trying to taste the rainbow of addictions and rebellion, and having daily fuckin' temper tantrums when I didn't get my way. I lived in a constant state of anger, fear, resentment, and defense. Wearing a smile and being the "sweetheart" many tried to see me as was exhausting. To the outside world, I was ambitious, beautiful, funny, and even level-headed ... but I knew it was a disguise. I was selfish, judgemental, materialistic ... and well, I was a damaged human being who wanted to hide or run away from the abuse of her younger self by literally becoming my own worse abuser.

My 30's hit a learning curve but they didn't avoid growing pains of acceptance. I started to stand up for myself and invest in learning about my demons, rather than being chased by them. Did you know that long bouts of sexual and emotional abuse can fuck somebody up and actually change the way the emotional part of their brain develops? It also makes them get a fancy diagnoses of GAD ... otherwise known as Generalized Anxiety Disorder and/or PTSD ... Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I could go on and on with those two topics, but it's not the point of this writing.

I was diagnosed with GAD by a man in a white coat with a clipboard who said, "Hmm" a lot and basically told me that without self-awareness and healthy coping skills I'd be dead soon. So he prescribed me medication that made me suicidal. Nice, right?!

Tossing out the pills, I decided to look into alternative options and learn how to break through the ceiling of my past without slicing my wrists. It took a very long time to do this ... as well as a lot of set-backs, make-up covered bruises, and self-disappointment. Yes, even in my late 20's and early 30's I was allowing someone who "loved me" to physically abuse the shit out of me and blame their own demons and anger on me every time I tried to help him.

At 33 years of age, I was ready to accept my past. I was ready to accept the abandonment and mind-fuckery of my biological father. I was ready to accept the countless men and boys who molested and raped me as a child and young teen. I was ready to accept the drunkin' violence I had witnessed and felt at the hands of my pedophile step-father when I was a child. I was willing to accept the terrible things I put myself through in desperate acts of fear, anger, and a need for acceptance. I was ready to accept that I was damaged. I was also ready to stop using expensive make-up as a disguise and start actually feeling beautiful on the inside.

I knew I could not go back in time to change what had happened to me. There's no Doc Brown or fancy DeLorean for me to jump into in order to rewrite my story; however, this didn't mean the power to change my story was unrealistic.

In addition to my academic climb, I became my own study and a magnet to others in life who society deems as damaged. I became a voice for the voiceless and an ear for what could not be heard or understood.

I am now just two years into my 40's ... but the learning curves and growing pains continue.

My struggle with GAD started to increase about two years ago. Not at the hands of or due to the fault of anyone in particular, other than the usual asshole (aka my sperm donor), but because the overload of self-awareness was starting to add tremendous pressure to my own esteem, expectations, determination and goals. I was also experiencing nightmares again and fears about my own worth, mortality, and future that introduced new demons. In a nutshell, I was so close to being happy and proud of myself that I actually turned on myself to prevent disappointment if I failed. Makes logical sense, right?! Yeah ... complete bullshit.

Repeat after me: Self-destruction is the antithesis of self-preservation.

So what does all of this have to do with last week ... ?

I'm getting there ... relax.

Giving a fuck is more of a science than an art. You have to know how to measure your fucks, count your fucks, and how many fucks are worth the ratio of the person or situation you're giving them to. Whew!

Now, insert love and well ... I fuckin' hate math, but there is a whole lotta fucks you have to give, even when your fuck bucket is empty. Sometimes you have to give a fuck because the other person needs to borrow that strength. Sometimes you have to give a lot of fucks because that person is batting them away like a blind man walking through a spider web. Other times you have to give one or two because you are feeling like shit and don't want the other person to feel too much of its impact ... so you do something little, thoughtful, or sexy to make them smile ... even if you feel like you don't give a fuck about yourself at the time.

But what happened last week!? Yeah yeah ... I'm getting there ...

Last week I witnessed and experienced a major setback, flashback, and death. Although I know and recognize trauma in others, I failed to let that knowledge speak louder than my own emotional needs. I failed to give the fucks I needed to give. I failed to see what I needed to do, say, and how to respond to the man who I have committed my life & heart to. While dismissing his own headspace at that moment, I only wanted him to see mine ... the more he argued, the more hurt I became ... the more hurt I became, the more that younger girl inside got triggered and my frustrated, angry words did what they do best ... speak what I fear, not what I mean or want.

We both became guilty of this, but were too blinded by our own hurt and anger to see, listen , or even try to understand what was really happening. It all boiled down to bad timing and the wrong choice of words, but unfortunately, it also resulted in my man getting swallowed up into the darkness of his own fears and resentments, which clicked on his default switch to leave mode.

Fuck.

I know in my heart that it can take days, weeks, even months for this switch to loosen its grip on his thoughts. Yes, we have been through this before ... but this time I hold myself more accountable than ever because I should have fuckin' seen the signs clearer and taken much greater caution with how I approached him, listened to him, and responded to him. We were both wrong for the things we said, but I do hold myself responsible for not being more level-headed and patient.

I had been watching him spiral down a personal hole of fuckery for several months do to life events and circumstances that were out of his control. Despite his concessions and dedication to making things right, he was being tormented and drug through bullshit that ate away the core of his heart.

Repeat after me: Parent Alienation is a fuckin' form of abuse to the children and the other parent in their life!

During the days leading up to this unnecessary explosion of insanity between us, I had noticed the rope getting tighter and saw fear, sadness, and resentment growing at a vicious pace in he eyes. I witnessed several moments that made my own heart shudder. Time with his children was expressed in waves of love and dismissiveness ... his love for them, their dismissiveness towards him. Additional details are not worth diving into right now, but I mention this only to highlight an example of how and why I should have known better to assert my own thoughts and feelings. Even though I don't think he'd use these words, I know that he trusted me and needed me to help pull him through ... my approach initially was to do that ... but when it didn't work, I became hurt and angry. BOOM! Not good.

You see there is only one problem with two very stubborn, argumentative, and alpha type people in a relationship ... when they lock horns, ya best move the fuck out of the way. In all other matters, they are a perfect match and make a great team ... which is what I focus on, whereas he cannot right now.

I say we've been through this before, but not because I'm keeping a score card, but because I should have had the wherewithal to recognize what was happening and I should have had the selfless strength to stop it from happening. PINEAPPLE!!! (Kevin Hart fans will get that!)

Repeat after me: Safe words should be used in more places than the bedroom!

It's never been an effort to love each other. Fuck, that took only a few days after we met ... so rare these days. As with every relationship, we have had our own learning curves and growing pains throughout the years ... I mean c'mon ... no greatness or success can be accomplished without some blood and spit in the ring. I don't keep track of our fights and falling-outs, nor do I dwell on them to a degree of casting blame or fault ... I believe you're going to fall several times before you learn how to walk, ride a bike, find your front door after a good night at the pub, etc.! My point is, you don't fuckin' give up. You learn, take a deep breath, and keep fuckin' movin' in the direction of the future you have built together with ideas, love, and this little fuckin' word called a "promise." Fall down 5 times, get the fuck back up 6!! <<or whatever it takes>>

Now, does this philosophy apply to couples who are in abusive, controlling, and toxic relationships...? Nope. My advice <<and previous lessons>> is to leave, block, and hit delete. Fuck that noise and save yourself.

This philosophy applies to the couples like us.

The couples who fight about stupid shit, but because they are both so strong-willed a mountain grows from a speck of sand. Remove the fuckin' mountain and that little sand fuck is still there waving at you ... like you just broke up, moved out, increased the stock of Kleenex tissue company and STILL don't know where the fuck you're going to go to dinner.

This is for the couples who usually mean the same thing when they say something or agree on something BUT use different words or meanings of words and will spend the afternoon ripping each other's hair out defending what those words and phrases mean or how they were meant RATHER than shutting the fuck up and realizing that you are fighting about something you both actually AGREE on! Seriously, I cannot tell you how many times that has happened .... << cringe >>

This is also for couples who each have a tumultuous past apart from one another and struggle to know the difference between listening to their heart and intuition vs. allowing their traumatic experiences to mislead their thoughts and decisions. Read that again.

Repeat after me: The best way to heal from the damage of someone who has fucked you is to find the right one to unfuck you.

... well, you know what I mean.

Having someone who has promised to stand by you and ride through the storms and bullshit of life armed with passion, forgiveness, and devotion is one of the most precious relationships ... yet very often not found. Having a person who will stand up to you as much as they will stand up for you is also a unique and beautiful thing ... as long as they eventually learn that standing up to you is as gentle as it is firm. Having a person who loves you in spite of your faults and strives to inspire your ideas and help you grow is what every man and woman deserves. A person who makes your heart smile, your private bits tingle, and your face hurt from laughing. A person who strengthens your weaknesses and is proud of you for things others would either ignore or take for granted. If you have this person then I have good news ... you have YOUR person.

Your person is the first on your mind and last in your thoughts each day as you run the daily grind of work and life balance. They are the first you go to with good news, the first you lean on with sorrow, as well as the first person you may consider listening to when you struggle to differentiate between the two. Your person does not expect you to be perfect <<< there is no such thing >>>, but they adore you for your imperfections and stand by you regardless. Your person is also not perfect ... they, too, have flaws, weaknesses, and insecurities ... they, too, have struggles and fears ... but they know and trust you will not give up on them, even if they want to give up on themselves.Your person is yours ... you will not and cannot find them in someone else ... you will not and cannot avoid them by being alone ... you will not and cannot erase them from your life. Miles, time, and anger cannot void them. Miles can be traveled, time will bring peace, and anger can be soothed by new understandings and refreshed beginnings. << as many as it takes >>

You see, when you have your person there is no such thing as 2nd, 3rd, or 50th chances ... in fact, the word chance only applies to one situation between you and that is the chance meeting you both encountered on the day you met. After that, it's all learning curves and growing pains.

As I wrap this up, I hope whoever reads this can or will reflect on themselves and their own partner. I hope it will blow out the match before it burns down someone else's forest <<<PINEAPPLE!>>> ... and I hope it helps at least one person from losing or cutting ties from their person.

I don't know if the death of last week's break-up will be revived and given a fresh breath of air <<< fingers and toes crossed>>>, but I do believe it takes two hearts to rebuild, refresh, and revive the forest where a single fuckin' match should have never fallen. I knew the flame was burning, but instead of lighting a candle, I let it drop.

Repeat after me: Flames will spark, instead of burning down the forest,

light a fuckin' candle.