Breaking up is hard to do. Making a decision to walk away from something, or in this case, someone, is difficult. Many people just stop calling and hope that the other person gets the hint, wanting to fudge their way out a relationship.
I broke up by text, to her mother, as she is ignoring me – I used some tough love and she couldn’t see that it was coming from a place of support, again, she could not see I was doing anything other than attempting to lift her, again.
There are only so many times you can give, before you feel like it is expected. I’ve learnt that from previous friendships. I know that I can go absent from people’s lives, usually when I’m ashamed of something, so I hide, expecting that people will ignore me. The ones that can see past my shame, past the ball juggling, past the smile when inside I’m struggling, those are the friends I’ve had for years. They put up with me, support me, love me, for me, warts and shame and all.
Every day I am trying to be everything to everyone. Leaving me at the bottom of my list. I took three days off work, made a list of things to do, and found it was all housework. Yes, the dates in my diary were all pleasure, going away for the weekend, getting my hair cut, lunch with a girlfriend today and meeting with a graphic designer for my business this afternoon, but the list of things to get done to do, busy, busy, busy…
I’ve got a bath bomb in the cupboard from Lush, not had time for a bath.
Got a reading nook set up that I’ve not sat in yet, a pile of books asking to be read on the desk beside my chair.
Who cares if the house is perfect?
I treat people how I want to be treated (apart from the retreating in shame thing obviously; but the book I’m reading at the moment is opening my eyes to shame and how it is hiding in plain view) I don’t care if I don’t like your advice, if you feel I need some unprompted advice, I’ll listen to your opinion. I value every person in my life, they enhance me, contribute to my psyche and well-being and are building blocks to me learning on a daily basis. I’ve had some really tough love from people, and it’s not been easy to take, but I didn’t think anything less of them for giving it to me. I hope I didn’t take it personally, I don’t think I did? I may have gone a bit quiet at the time, but that again is me thinking things through. Not flying off the handle at people for gently steering me in the right direction again.
So here I am, warts and all, in the middle of shame, my mouth is dry, I have a metallic taste in my mouth, I feel like a rabbit in headlights, and all I can think of is, I should have tried harder. But the other half of me is saying, you tried enough. I cannot worry about what other people think of me over this, I am sharing this with you because I do not want to fester on it any more.
Here I am, broken open, sharing this, incoherent stream of consciousness, unedited with you, hoping to let you in, so you can see my shame, let you see that despite my best efforts, on this occasion, it still feels like they weren’t enough. Not for any pat on the backs, self-congratulatory crap. Not for anything other, than if someone reads this and realises they are not on their own, this post has helped two people. Me and them.