Thursday, 24 May 2012

Self-recrimination and what to do thoughts

I fell, gloriously, happily, into this relationship. Virgil was my saviour. My heart was opening as never before. I knew something was changing and growing in me. I was also in my last year of college and, frankly, that wasn't good. So much for a career change: I didn't feel sure or enthusiastic about my new professional direction - at all. A part of me thought: 'Well even if you have just spent years training to be something you're no good at, at least you have this lovely, amazing new relationship. At least one part of your life is really picking up.'

Reader, do not make other people responsible for your personal happiness and safety. Do not look for it in your relationship. Beware making someone else a surrogate for what you don't have. It took a few years to manifest, this loading of responsibility onto Virgil and our relationship, and a crisis and probably the end of it to realise what I had been doing.

Now I feel so stupid and sad. I have failed. I have lost. The pain is awful. It plays horribly into my sense that I am NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Being not good enough was why Jos didn't return my teenage love. Fearing my own inadequacy, I have become monumentally proud, rigid, judgmental and closed. I am a self-righteous harlot. I have now ridden a really good love into the ground and it's no coincidence that my faltering work life is in a similar state. Subconsciously I have created the perfect storm and finally forced change where there was stagnation and stuckness.

'Well,' says Deirdre, (my therapist and god-send) 'at least the process that you have started is unstoppable now. Things won't go back to being how they were. They can't. If you and Virgil are going to have a relationship, it will have to be a new relationship. But you need to work out your own stuff first, face your fears, be the author of your own life and take control. If you make Virgil the one who has to decide this, you will force him to split up with you.'

My thoughts today are that I have to put myself first and, paradoxically and painfully, this means moving out. Of course, I already have moved out. What I mean to say is that it means not trying to move back in. Even if I can get Virgil to agree to try again (and more on that in another post) it will mean living separately until a time when I feel my life is moving forward again.


This is my woundedness. There are layers of pain around my heart. At my core, this is what I am feeling:

I am afraid of the future.
I am not good enough.
I am unlovable.
I will never make anything of my life.

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