Love is not enough
All night I dreamed of failure. I’m going to use this post to explain how I feel…please understand that some of it may be waaaaaaaay out of the ballpark but it’s what is inside me this morning, scratching to get out.
I somehow managed to produce a broken human from my broken, weary soul. In truth I always feared this might happen, that the lack of security and love in my early life had left me unable to properly bond with any creature, even my own flesh and blood. Bonding ineffectively is a disaster, let me tell you, and it impacts every area of life in a negative way. There is no upside, I’m quite sure….I’ve been searching for one for 39 years now and haven’t see anything remotely positive about it.
Now, it seems my suffering is twofold. Not only do I get physical pain that never dies, emotional turmoil that never settles and a head full of nonsensical connections that confuse me, I also get to watch my child suffer through his life. I’ll likely live to be 110 or something just so the suffering can be as prolonged as possible. (Yes, this is a pity party, thank you for coming).
As a child, my foster father would tell me how irrelevant I was all the time. He would tell me I was different and that he could never understand me or my motivations. It made me feel like a freak.. I mean, what five year old can understand those phrases and put them in proper context? To me, it just sounded like he didn’t like me for who I was so it was something I had to learn to hide.
Because I didn’t fit in at all, as far as my father told me, I started to become watchful of other’s opinions and feelings towards me. I would wait for danger, sniff the air, poised and ready to run should I need to. Something about me seemed to set people off and I seemed to bring chaos to their lives in one way or another. My dad said it was fate. He said that I should have died with my mother and that because I ‘cheated’ death, my unfulfilled destiny would wreak havoc not only in my world, but everyone else’s too.
I saw it everywhere. Every single boyfriend (or girlfriend) I ever knew had parents who hated me. They didn’t ever want me hanging around their kid, no matter the relationship. I was not usually welcome in their homes and, for some reason, there were soooo many ‘talks’ where the friend and I had to sit on a couch while their parents lectured, through tears most times, things I didn’t really understand. It took a while to click that I was the wrong choice they were speaking of. (The heaviness of that just weighed down on me so hard I couldn’t breathe for a moment).
Friends left, relationships fell apart….it was always a struggle so it always seemed that my father was right; I wasn’t a force of goodness in anyone’s life, not even my own. I was forever apologizing and begging for someone (anyone) to forgive me but like I said, the adults didn’t like me and the friends knew it was so much easier to just do as their parents said, leave me behind and move on with life. That’s exactly where I ended up too….alone, on a street corner in a busy city centre, cold, penniless and with zero street smarts at the tender age of 15. It didn’t surprise me at all.
Once out of their home I used sex to draw people to me. It’s the one area that I can actually make people happy. I can please them without fail there and it doesn’t matter how I look or feel….it’s become natural and is always successful. It makes me feel like that’s all I’m worth, but really, there’s nothing else so a little bit of worth is better than nothing most days. Even that messes up people’s lives though. I had a few (more than a few) guys who wanted to cheat on their partners with me and any time I gave in a little I knew I was destroying something between them forever, even if the partner never found out. Home wrecker….I never wanted to wreck anything, least of all a family. I always left with my tail between my legs, adamantly refusing to make their lives more complicated. I ended up alone every time.
Harry, my ex husband drove a lot of points home too. He told me the same as my father did….I took too much energy and effort and the only payoff wasn’t good enough. I mean, the sex was so good he even told my mother on the phone! The most important reason he didn’t want to lose me was that he knew he’d never find someone like me in the bedroom again. (This is exactly what he told my mother every time he called until she told him to stop calling her entirely). I put a ton of effort into that relationship and all he did was annoy, belittle and accuse me of doing things I didn’t do. If I didn’t want to have sex with him one night I’d be accused of being gay and when that got old, he would accuse me of cheating on him. I didn’t cheat on Harry…not even close…never had the thought. It didn’t matter though…he needed to believe it so he did. M was a near duplicate of Harry, although much smarter and more streetwise. Their maturity level was about the same though…only M was ten years Harry’s senior when we were connected. (I forgave him that. He got very sick in his early 20’s and missed most of them to paranoia and delusional, complex mental health issues. Harry was just an asshole.
Harry’s mom committed suicide just after I left him, but not before she made sure to blame me for it, publicly. Now the family hates me for killing their mother..I just let it slide though. They were suffering and needed someone to blame. Might as well have been me right? Not like I had anything worth saving with them. I was told, after we split, that the family didn’t like me anyway…never had. But…no great big surprise there.
So I went through life expecting to fuck things up for anyone who cared about me and, quite frankly, it just kept happening over and over and confirmed the worst. This is just the way I am…the energy I carry with me. I am a bad connection that fizzes and pops so you can’t communicate with me clearly. I have something people want, but the layers of smoke are so think around me you can’t quite see though and the effort of waving your hands to spread the smoke is too much to be bothered with.
Now I have a little boy who is turning into a big boy who struggles through life thanks to me. I honestly believed that my issues (and Dayne’s) came from not being loved as children. Somehow, despite all the love, we produced this poor, confused, broken soul. That was still okay….we were still on board and ready to make his life as good as we possibly could despite his struggles, and now, look at what we’ve done. We have a disabled child who is behaving like an enormous prick at school to the kids who have done nothing but try to help him along. (the ones in his class, anyway). He swears at kids just to be cool and mean. He still hits and kicks…throws stones. He tells teachers off and refuses to apologize…he doesn’t care about getting into trouble, hurting people or behaving nicely. He seems unprovoked and the school is being careful to gather evidence prior to accusation because they know we’ll side with Colt if given the choice. Do I tell my son that he’s being a giant asshole? We tried it last night but I don’t think he cared any more than he usually does. Dayne told him one more suspension and Christmas was cancelled this year. It broke my heart into pieces…. Christmas is the only family holiday we have left that’s any fun. It’s impossible to think that Colt will not break the rules between now and the end of December….I told Dayne not to make empty threats as it would just make Colt less likely to fear punishment, but I was outvoted and it stood. So. Probably no Christmas for us this year. That just makes it all so much more dismal.
I left the scene in tears and sobbed in the back room for an hour last night. Dayne made sure to stay as far away from me as physically possible until he heard the sobs die down. He can’t handle it when I crack like that…..doesn’t matter the reason. I cried into his work shirt for a while, then gobbled down a few glasses of wine with a few pills and went to sleep. Dayne didn’t wake me.
Love is not enough. That’s the lesson I’ve been learning all my life. Loving someone isn’t the thing that keeps people around. I love Colt with every cell in my body and no matter how much I express that love, he will still be who he is. I’m afraid that who Colt is will end up with him in jail …maybe locked in a cell with his father who passed down that destructive temper.
So now I’m lost, blog friends. The school is out of strategies and so are we. I mean, we’re down to threatening no Christmas, apparently. Colt isn’t a forward thinker at all so in the moment he will not remember that he must behave. He will fuck up and then we’ll be forced to follow through and he will freak out at school. Last time we did this the school called the CAS on us. Too much, too little…nothing ever seems to work.
I am stuck in this and I know I’ll have to live this out for many, many years to come. The purpose of this life is starting to fade and wash away…..nothing I’ve ever done has amounted to much. People find me pleasant to talk to and strong but what does that get me? Nothing. All there seems to be is suffering.
Today, thanks to the stress, I’m in a bad flare up of pain from my spine so I’m going to pour all of my focus there, on the pain. It blanks out the rest when it gets really bad like this so I’m only dealing with one of the two issues. The inside of my head is dark and unhappy right now. I could use a hug from the inside. M used to be able to do that for me, but I don’t have him to turn to anymore, thanks to me being me. I wish I could be just about anyone else today.
Okay, pity party over. Just wanted to eject a little misery before I start my day. Life huh? I hate thinking that all of this struggling was for nothing, in the end. 😦