Sunday, June 19, 2011

All You Have Is Yourself

6/20
I wrote this blog about eight weeks ago. For the past eight weeks I have tried to put myself out there. I have tried to be active, to be on the go, to be social. I have tried to open myself up, I have tried to make and develop friendships. I have. But I have a hard time with these walls, a hard time letting down enough to develop real meaningful relationships. As I sit here tonight, Ive cried my eyes out, I have screamed, I have felt numb. But mainly, I have felt completely and utterly alone. So alone, that I am not sure if there is such a thing as being more alone. I feel... lost, empty, and alone. I dont feel connected to anyone out there. And as much as it pains me to say it, maybe it is my cross to bare to be alone. Maybe the people that are forced to be in my life simply need to be cut free so they can do their thing without debbie downer bringing negativity into their lives. Maybe, people can stop pretending, stop acting the way they should and saying what they feel I need to or I want to hear from them. Maybe Ill stop being a pity invite, or a last minute call because "they should". I dont want that. Maybe my husband is better off without me, to find a real woman who is loveable and a good person to be his wife and the mother of his children, a task I am not capable of doing. Maybe, just maybe it makes sense. All I know is that I dont want to talk to, see or be around anyone for awhile. Just, leave me alone, everyones so damn good at that anyway. 
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5/17
Lately I have spent more and more time alone. It takes so much energy to be social and one thing I don’t have is energy. This deployment has been the worst. You know why? Because I don’t have a support system. 

Sure I have lots of comments and emails on facebook, but can I tell you actions speak louder than words? I had a friend who I pretty much did everything with then her husband came home and I have seen her pretty much disappear since then. It sucked because I felt like I was there for her during his deployment and Im left fending for myself. My best friend has her husband here and a child to care for and I don’t like forcing myself on them.  More so, I am sort of pissed off at the “we love you” and “we care about you” crap I see online. Its bullshit. Why do I say this? Because I have received two phone calls this deployment checking to see how I am, from my husband’s grandmother. No one else has called just to say, “Hey how are you doing?” I am a passing thought on facebook, a comment on a newsfeed. No one really gives a shit. It’s so easy to say that they care on a facebook post. But you know what? I don’t believe it. Why? My phone is silent.

When my phone rings it’s always because someone wants something and then as a passing thought, “So how are you anyway?” Almost like they feel they have to say that. No one, not even my father in law, has called to check on me and see how I am doing. Ever.  Let me tell you how many times in ten months someone has called to  check on me, to see if I needed anything… or better yet let me tell you about Thanksgiving. If my best friend hadn’t pcsed here from Washington State and my husband’s cousin hadn’t come to Colorado to ski, I would have been completely alone again. And, his cousin didn’t come to see me, he came to ski, which I totally understand, we had never even met before. But the thought that I would have been as alone as I was in college, made me sad. No one here thought even once to include or invite me over, the same for Christmas. 

I spent most of Christmas day crying. I don’t have a home to go to, fine, I get that, it wasn’t my first Christmas alone.  But waking up alone on Christmas morning to an empty house, feeling out of place at a Christmas dinner that you wonder if it was a pity invite, and then coming back to an empty house, especially knowing the children you would have had if the pregnancies hadn’t, if YOU hadn’t failed. Or wanting, just wanting someone to love you enough to call and wish you a Merry Christmas… because with all the “love” I receive on facebook, I received a couple text messages that day. Know what I wouldn’t have given to just have someone call and say “Im thinking of you, Merry Christmas?” It might have made me felt not so alone in this world.

You know, I spent the last couple years calling everyone, making the rounds so to speak, but this year I thought, what’s the point? I interrupt their family gatherings and if they really care they will call. But, my phone was silent. Just to make sure I wasn’t imagining things I went back to my phone record and did a screen capture. Guess, what, my husband was the only person to call me on Christmas. Imagine that. Not a single “loving” family member or friend called me to wish me a Merry Christmas. While my husband was deployed. 

While I sat alone in my big house, that I am so thankful for, but that feels bigger when empty. Everyone knows I don’t have a family, everyone knows I don’t have parents. Its not a big deep dark secret, there is no “home” to go to during the holidays. But how many of these “we care about you” and “we hurt when you hurt” people decided that they could take two seconds out of their day and call and wish me a Merry Christmas or even see if Im ok, knowing I was all alone? None. Not a single one. Not a single “family” member called me.

Yeah, Im a horrible, terrible person who does nothing for anyone else. I am selfish. I am mean. Obviously. 

Because I mean, what other reason would there be for a person to be alone so often. To have such a hard 
time making friends, or maintaining friendships? It couldn’t be that I cant trust anyone. That I get rejected easily. That my personality isn’t conducive to interpersonal relationships. Yeah, lately Ive been negative a lot. I own that. But even when I was positive it wasn’t good enough. I wouldn’t want to be around me either. But if you don’t want to be around me, don’t, don’t give me lip service on facebook.  Actions speak louder than words. So many so called Christians in my life who preach Christian love, and showing the love of Christ. Right. That happens.

Take a look at my phone bill from Christmas and ask me again why I think Im unlovable. I fucking dare you. 

It’s black and white. Here it is:



Did my father in law, who calls “everyone” on the holidays call me? No. He did not. It was funny listening to his brother tell me how he never misses a holiday or a birthday and he calls everyone when we went to Missouri in April. Yet, his daughter in law is sitting along in her house Christmas morning, hugging her knees to her stomach, crying her eyes out, and her phone doesn’t ring. Not that it should be a surprise to anyone. My husband’s parents don’t love me; they tolerate me because I am married to their son. I have no doubt that is the case. I wasn’t invited to visit them during this deployment and in all the years weve been married, even when they visited his sister an hour away from us, twice, they’ve never been to our home. And in fact, his sister bragged to us after one visit about how they didn’t even ask about us, not once, nor did they suggest we drive up for lunch. We were one hour away, my husband hadn’t seen his dad in four years, and we don’t even get a lunch/dinner invite. Hell, we would have made dinner if they had come to us, but no, we find out after the fact that they were even there.

Oh and let me tell you out of the dozens of people that I have dropped everything for, babysat for, paid bills for, ran errands for, took care of sick pets and kids, helped with schoolwork, I could go on and on, locally how many of them invited me to Christmas dinner. Yep. You guessed it. Oh, I got two very last minute, pity, if you don’t have anywhere else to go… x, y, z. The, I don’t really want you to come but I am going to ask anyway just because it’s the right thing to do, afterthought, invites. I am not stupid. I could tell by the tone of voice, by the words, “well if you don’t have anywhere else to go…” Not a, “What are you doing for Christmas? Wed love to have you come over.” Type of deal. Or, “I invited everyone so no one felt left out so if you want you can come too…” I don’t want pity invites. I want people to like me, people who claim to care about me, to invite me because they “love” me. But obviously, I am unlovable. I believe that with every core of my being.

What is the point? The point is for ten months I have been living alone while my husband is at war. And for ten months I have felt like the foster child I once was, just floating along, not belonging anywhere or to anyone. I have felt completely lost and all alone. While I see so many support groups that have formed, and people running off to visit families, and friendships that have merged, that hasn’t happened. And I know its my own damn fault. I cant put myself out there to be rejected like I have been, or misinterpreted, and perhaps because of my insecurities, my fears, my doubts, I sink my own boat before it has left the harbor, who knows. 

Or I leave myself out there for critique, lies and rumors to spread because I don’t get deep at a personal level, because people don’t know me, it makes it easy to put a target on my back. It was easy to target me and make me the bad guy when I wasn’t close to any one specific person and no one was there to defend me, or knew me well enough to say, no that’s not like her. You know, that’s ok. Im used to that with women.  Ive worn this target time and time again during this deployment, even when, in all honesty I had no idea what anyone was talking about or the situations they were implying.

Sometimes I try too hard, sometimes I don’t try enough. Sometimes I talk too much. Sometimes I don’t talk enough. Sometimes…

Well in the last five months I stopped caring. I stopped talking to people. I stopped hanging out. Not like anyone noticed, or cared. But I did. And being alone has been the best thing for me. Because I don’t get hurt. If I don’t love, I don’t have to be punched in the gut when I am reminded, as I have been for twenty eight years, that I am not loveable.

I take responsibility for my actions. I am not the most socially graceful person. I don’t always have a filter with what comes out of my mouth. But some of what has said about me, not only is it absolutely untrue, its extremely hurtful. I am not a spiteful person. I am not a mean person. I don’t ever do anything to hurt people, never ever on purpose. If I screw up I am the first one to admit it. I am very aware of my actions and words and sometimes, it doesn’t come out right, but the intention was there and I try so hard to make up for it when I do say or do incentive things. I care damnit, too much about people. And while I understand I suck at life and I am not fun to be around, I accept that. Because when I am positive about things, people say Im fake, and when Im negative people say Im a Debbie Downer. I cant win. No matter what. When I just am myself.
I talk too much as a defense mechanism. It’s part of my wall.

Hands down I was used this deployment. I did things for so many people, gave time, energy, money and effort. But in return I got nothing back. Not that I am surprised. I mean, I don’t ask for anything so how would I get anything? But a thank you, or a “how are you” would have been nice. Someone to care enough to ask how I am doing.

So here is where I am right now. I don’t cry in front of people. I don’t do it. Ask my best friend, the number of times she has seen me cry and Im pretty sure it was twice. Once when my adopted mother had a stroke while on the phone with me and once when my dog was almost killed in an attack. And even that second time was extremely private. I don’t cry in front of people.

But I do alone.

And for the last week I have spent the better part of everyday crying. I know I am unlovable. Know it. There is nothing anyone will ever say or can say to make me think otherwise. Im ok with that. Its my fate, my cross to bear. But I love others, sometimes too much and too intensely and I love those who don’t deserve my love and I care about people who don’t care about me back. So what ends up happening in the end when they don’t care back? I hurt, I cry, I feel ashamed.

When Brian died I felt like my heart was ripped from my chest. I swore I would never love anyone that much ever again. Then, the car accident happened. I don’t talk about it, I don’t talk about them. I cant. It hurts too much. In one breathe. Every good friend, I had on the planet died. How do you love again after that? How do you turn around after feeling such loss in your life. Your parents. Dead. Your best friend, I swear if Brian had asked me to marry him, I would have, dead. Your three best girlfriends, friends you had for years, the ones you would give your life for, dead. And you survive. I don’t want to get into the guilt or asking why, or wondering how many times you have died and they brought you back, why do they bring you back? Why do you have to call an old roommate to pick you up from the hospital after a damn coma because you have no one else. I went through all of that alone. Completely. And I survived. I survived. And I kept moving forward. One foot in front of each other. I went through physical therapy alone. I drove across country alone. I started a new job. I made a new life. No one missed me from my old one.

I get the phone goes both ways. I get emails do as well. And they did, and I did. I cant tell you the number of emails or texts or calls Ive made that have gone unanswered. Its fine. I get the point. I am not a stupid, na├»ve, ten year old who is going to beg someone to be her friend. Actions speak louder then words. And in the last five months Ive realized its better to be alone, it’s a place I know, its something I can cope with way better than loss, way better than being stabbed in the back, or having to grieve, or feeling disappointed when people don’t like me the way they like other people.

My walls are protection. They are what keeps me from going from a mild hurt to a devastating hurt. I cant let them down, because I am absolutely convinced if they crumbled, so would I. That means that I cant accept love, love to me isn’t real. It isn’t an emotion that exists. I sometimes feel like I am Gods pain project, to see how much emotional pain a person can endure in one lifetime. He has done a good job inflicting it. Death, torture, rape, loss of babies, hell Im right on my way. Too bad pains not measurable. Id have like a medal or something, it’s about the only thing I do right and consistently in this life.

So, I guess the point of this? Fuck off with your fake and empty words of concern, care and “love.” Check out the Christmas phone picture. Love, right. I have abundance of that in my life.

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