Tag Archives: dysfunctional relationships

Strained Relationships

Sometimes, my heart feels drained. It’s weird, because at the same time, it feels overflowing. I’m trying to learn how to regulate it. It’s a work in progress.

Learning how to not let it overflow where it doesn’t belong…will I ever learn how? My brain knows, but not my heart. My heart thinks if it just flows freely enough, it will heal strained relationships. Spunky lil fella, eh? Good intentions, for sure. Not so much good outcomes.

All the love in the world isn’t enough if there’s none there to receive it. But I keep trying. Maybe I’m really just going through the motions now.

There’s something about strained relationships… the loss of love is tough. Or maybe it’s the loss of what could be. I’m learning it’s possible to grieve the loss of what could have been. Knowing there will be no more memories made. The loss of hope.

Hope is my savior. And my downfall. It keeps me in places I have no business being in. But it also keeps me living wholeheartedly. It powers my climb.

For a long time, I thought there was something inherently wrong with me. Everyone said, “It’s not you, it’s them”. But there’s so many of them. I’m the common denominator. It has to be me.

Yes, it is me. But it’s not anything that’s wrong with me. I’m growing. Evolving. Outgrowing.

I’m learning. Sometimes, I confuse triggers for love. And sometimes, my love is really just a trigger for someone else. We are all doing the best we can. A bunch of scared little kids walking around in grown up bodies. Pretending until we can’t pretend any longer.

Hope. I’m setting an intention to stop holding on. I can’t climb any mountains when I’m holding on to them.

I have hope I’m going to figure this all out someday. Actually, I know I will.

This post was written in response to Linda G Hill’s Stream of Social Consciousness Saturday

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My tribe

My tribe.

They say your vibe attracts your tribe. Like attracts like. I guess I’ve still got some work to do, because I don’t always see this.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got some kick-ass people in my life. There’s actually quite a few Jami-tribes around here. I’m good. I laugh. I smile. I belong. I’m surrounded by love.

But…

There’s those few. I might work on this the rest of my life and never truly understand how anyone can so easily walk away from love. Friend love. Romantic love. Family love. My love. Yes, I understand how our experiences affect how we respond to things. I get it.

But no, I don’t really get it. Despite shitty experiences or faulty conditioning or lack of emotional toolboxes, how fear can be so strong, miscommunication…I just don’t understand. Life is so fleeting. We get this one brief blip, one shot, and then we are gone.

Or maybe you are still here, but I’m gone.

I believe there will be regrets.

My attachments are fading. As much as I’ve been praying for this, part of me doesn’t want to lose them. I don’t want to get used to letting go of love so easily. I ache letting go of love. Love is a gift, a blessing… but I don’t think you realize this. Maybe like doesn’t really attract like, after all.

My tribe is strong. Solid. I’m good. But I’m holding space for you, just in case.

This post was written in response to Linda G Hill’s Stream of Social Consciousness Saturday, found at the link below. I’m grateful for the weekly writing nudge.

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Forcing Connections

Old habits die hard.

I can remember when I quit smoking over 20 years ago. Of course, I knew cigarettes were bad for me. “Bad” is such a minimizing word. I knew they could kill me. And still, it was so hard to stop smoking. I wanted to be healthy. I knew I would feel better without them. I was at the point where I didn’t even like how they made me feel. I felt dirty and ashamed after sneaking “just one more” when I was trying to quit. Eventually, I was successful. Though not after trying and failing multiple times. Cravings are no joke. Even for the strongest of the strong, addiction is hard. And changing your behavior is painful. No one likes feeling pain, right? Eventually, I missed them less and less, until the feeling went away.

I haven’t had a cigarette since I was 24. I rarely drink alcohol. I don’t use recreational drugs. I don’t spend hours numbing out in front of the tv or go shopping instead of thinking about uncomfortable things. I don’t eat to feel safe and comforted. I don’t keep my needs and opinions to myself. I don’t do any of the things I used to do to avoid feeling my emotions. The things shame taught me to do.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I still have shame. I think we all do. Maybe sometimes we don’t recognize it, or maybe some of us have more of it than others. It’s sneaky. Like a chameleon. You never see it coming. Just when you think you’ve purged it all from your soul, it manifests in unrecognizable ways. Like, why am I crying about my credit score?  Or, I wonder if that guy stopped calling me because he discovered my blog?

Old habits. I’ve learned the reason I keep playing out the same pattern in my relationships is because there’s this “false narrative” running in my brain. Leftover from my childhood. A bunch of crap that’s been brainwashing me my entire life. When you grow up being taught to feel this way, you have no idea it’s false. It’s all you know. You hear that voice in your head from day one. You think you ARE the voice. But you’re not. It’s just a narrative your brain came up with. I’m slowly learning that this voice in my head is just that…a voice. It’s not me. It does not define me. I’m in the process of teaching myself how to mindfully listen to what it has to say, and then make my own decision. Well, I do this when I remember.

Of course, that stupid voice does control me most of the time. I can’t help it. If I’m not actively focusing on not listening to it, I just default and do what it says. My current problem with what it has me just “instinctively” doing is forcing connections where there are none. Well, that’s not true. It’s more like trying to reconnect after the connection has been lost. Yes, that’s better. Though, if you ask some of the people on the receiving end, they might think “forcing” is the perfect word. Oh, there’s that chameleon again.

I love fiercely. I’ve been told it’s intense. I cherish my emotional connections and I work extremely hard to reconnect when I’ve lost someone I love. I suppose this comes from growing up associating love with having to earn it. From being taught that fierce love like mine will never belong to me. A lifetime of chasing love and validation from those who were expected to give it to me and just weren’t able to. I tend to love people who are just like that…unable to give it to me. Well, that’s not true either. I tend to love people who give it to me briefly, and then spend an eternity trying to get it back. And I have spent a lifetime doing this and beating myself up for it. Feeling ashamed and unlovable. Silly, when you think about it. I choose these incapable, emotionally unavailable people and then feel ashamed because they can’t love me. Of course they can’t love me. They can’t love anyone. Even when I thought they loved me, it wasn’t real. And as soon as I figured out how to shine my light, they left. Sometimes, the light shines on things no one wants to see. If only they knew that the way to the light is THROUGH those places you don’t want to see. They say you can only love someone as much as you love yourself. Maybe all this fierce “love” I’ve been giving people really isn’t love at all. Maybe I confuse it for something else…like anxiety. Well, that’s not really true. It used to be true, but it’s not anymore. My love feels differently now, now that I have the light in me. I do love myself. I do think I’m worthy of great, fierce love. I do not think I should have to earn it. Or change my ways to deserve it. Or lower my standards or needs or wants or desires. I know this. The right love will fit perfectly. Like my boys. Their love fits perfectly with mine. That is where I am setting the bar. Mutual fierceness only.

But, old habits die hard. I still get caught up in the idea that if I just love them enough, the light will draw them back, and help them heal and not be the human equivalent of cigarettes to me. Kind of a dreamer attitude. And highly unlikely. The people who truly love me think I’m crazy for not walking away from those who have hurt me. Maybe they are right. Codependency at it’s best, but at least I’m aware of it. And honestly, I like the idea of forgiveness and unconditional love and shining my light for them. I like having hope. I like the idea of everyone deserving love. Everyone. So, I keep trying. I can’t seem to quit it just yet. Cravings are no joke, remember? Eventually, I think I will miss them less and less, until the feelings just go away.

And shame? Fuck shame. It can only live in silence and secrecy. It can not survive if you identify it and talk about it. Put it on a blog and it disappears. You should try it.

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Bubbles, caves and ecosystems

Relationship dynamics are so complex. It doesn’t matter which type of relationship you look at…romantic, friends, coworkers, family…there’s fragile framework in a lot of them. Sure, some are pretty rock solid, but as far as I can tell, many are like a house of cards. It can look nice, and be fun to participate in…but you’re always mindful and know that one misstep can make the roof collapse.

It’s funny how you can live in a house of cards your entire life, and not even realize it. Maybe you think everyone’s house is made of cards. Or maybe you know your house is made of cards, but you don’t want to let anyone else know about that shoddy construction. Or even more likely, you don’t want to admit to yourself that there’s just no real support around you.  So, you tell yourself everything’s just fine. “This is SO normal”, you say,  as you walk on eggshells, trying to keep everything in place.

OK, this analogy is getting away from me, sorry. It sounded so good in my head when I started. Let me switch gears here… some people create these little ecosystems of lives. Like Sandy Cheeks on Sponge Bob. She’s a squirrel living in the ocean. As a land animal, she needs to put her entire home in a bubble in order to survive…her own little ecosystem. Except Sandy is living there because she wants to enjoy life with her friends. The people I’m talking about, well…they create these ecosystems because they are hiding. Not so much from people, but from the truth.  I’ll let you interpret the truth in any way you choose…the truth of a painful past, the truth about their insecurities, the truth about their guilt, the truth about toxic behavior, the truth about shame… pick whichever one suits your fancy. Or maybe they’re hiding from a toxic person. An abusive person. Or addiction, or abandonment, or neglect.  Or past failures. For this conversation, let’s call the truth and/or the toxic person/environment “The volcano”.  So, if you spend enough time in their ecosystem, you don’t even realize what’s going on isn’t normal, because everyone living in the bubble is acting just like you are…walking on eggshells to keep the volcano from erupting. Acting like it’s perfectly normal to live in this giant, explosive shadow. Or like it’s normal to live with shame and guilt. Or like it’s normal to live with abuse. Keeping the lid on the volcano becomes automatic. It’s a survival technique. No, it doesn’t always work…that sucker still blows it’s top from time to time, but if everyone tiptoes around enough, it settles down. Till the next time….

The trouble brews when you finally realize, “Hey, I’m thinking maybe this isn’t so normal, after all”. You take a step back, outside of the bubble, into the sun. At first, it’s too bright….so bright, it hurts. Because you’re used to living in the dark. Like living in a cave. It’s so much easier to hide in a cave. The dark corners can feel safe, although they are cold and lonely. You sort of end up picking your poison. So, you find some sunglasses and do some hard work…facing things no one else wants to face. You face the truth. You face the toxicity. You face the guilt, the shame, the insecurities, the pain…you even start to talk about it. And trust me, that’s a big deal. NO ONE talks about what goes on in the bubble. No one. But you do it, anyway. Because it’s freeing. And once that’s said and done, you realize walking on eggshells hurts like hell. You can’t believe you never noticed the pain those shells cause you. And then you look at everyone else in that bubble and wonder how the hell they can stand it in there, bleeding from walking on shells, just to keep a volcano from erupting. The sun doesn’t hurt anymore. You throw your sunglasses to the ground and yell to your loved ones “Just leave the volcano, for crying out loud! Save yourselves!” They look at you like you’re crazy.  They are wincing, from having to look at you in that bright light of the sun. “Leave the volcano? God no!” and just like that, you are the black sheep, because change is hard. They get mad at you. Maybe some of them gaslight you. Maybe some of them shame you for talking. Maybe some of them resent you for doing and facing what they are incapable of doing and facing themselves.  They might even allow you to come back in, IF you stop talking about “it”…whatever “it” is that makes them so uncomfortable. God, you even think about it for a while. I mean, these are the people you love, for God’s sake! You want to be with them, to be loved by them… accepted. Chosen. You really think about it, without even noticing that these conditions they are putting on you means they aren’t choosing you at all. So, you try, but soon discover, in order to survive in their bubble, you need to let go of your light. And you find you can’t do that, even if you wanted to…because you realize, you ARE the light.  They just don’t realize that the light will stop hurting once they face it, and there’s not a damn thing you can say to make them understand. Oh, you try alright. But it doesn’t work.  They just become more angry, more reactive, more withdrawn.  All because you cracked open their bubble, their fragile ecosystem, their house of cards. The light shined on them, and on all the things they are hiding from. It’s blinding. They are not ready to look at those things.  You really can’t blame them…you lived in the bubble your entire life, just like them. Coping. All you can do now is love them from afar, and pray for God to give them just a touch of grace, like he did to you…back when you found the light. A touch of grace to allow them to see the light. Just enough to find their path out of the cave.

P.S. I will always be waiting at the end of the path to share my light with you.

The Friday Reminder for #SoCS & #JusJoJan Daily Prompt, Jan. 6th, 2018

This post was written in response to Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Social Consciousness Saturday. No edits allowed! (none needed…this flowed from my soul…)Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmail