It is a mysterious occurence on this journey the way things unfold to remind me of where I have yet to set myself free. It seems almost immediately upon feeling complete, full, even to a place of deep gratitude for the journey, I got sucked back into the old story, the old wounds, and got some hard core reality checks around my true state of beingness and acceptance of what is. I was tested, almost immediately upon arrival of a place of peace and forward movement, and undeniably and embarassingly, I failed, with flying colors! I flopped like a big fat fish trying miserably to shake it's parasites. I flopped in a big pooling pile of tears, self loathing and resentment. And then, I did what I do when I flop, I isolated thus allowing more time and space for the villans to return and wreak havoc on my heart and mind and continue to gnaw away at the threads of what was left between my ex and I as salvageable. I've finally done it. I've finally completely cut thru the threads of a salvageable friendship or connection with him, the sabotage is complete. I have pushed him to the brink of hatred. My villans succeeded in wasting away all the work he and I have done in the past few months to re-build trust and friendship.
So I sit here now blasted in the wake of it all, feeling emptied out, blank and heart wrenchingly sad. This was not the way I wanted to be in this. I knew this situation would occur, yet somehow it hit me harder than I imagined it could. I felt again like he had desecrated something sacred to me and has no remorse or concern about it. I feel hurt, betrayed and mostly upset with myself that I allowed myself to think it would be any different than this even for a moment.
I am still recovering from it now and sitting in a state of more or less dumbfounded humility of what the last 48 hours has brought back into my mind, heart and body. Clearly, I still have some work to do and am far from the place I was imagining that I was a few days ago. I was living in the future me still yet to fully arrive and atleast I got a good glimpse of her to hang onto in this ride!
I mean, I didn't just fail, I really dug myself in, ankle deep into the blackest, gooiest shit of my sad, hurt, abandoned little girl not getting her way and feeling totally denied of love and nurturing. I flipped and flopped to try to get out, and then fell back in even deeper on the second round. I heard a little demon come out of my voice that was scarily too reminiscent of my father's voice when he spews some vile uncontrollable nastiness from his angry pursed lips and that, more than anything, scared the shit out of me. I am my father, as I am my mother. There he was, venting and spewing from a self defensive place of anger and fear right out of my pursed lips and vengeful villan self. My heart was so shut down, so trampled and so repulsed, all I could do was return to all the old stories and reactions I have come to know too well, and find ways that his actions once again supported them all. It seemed all I knew how to do in that state of re-activeness and hurt. There I was, in the midst of it, even recognizing it, not being able to stop the madness and just fueling the fires of destruction between he and I to a boiling point. I totally relapsed, full force into the same place I have worked so hard on crawling out of for the past few months and thought I had overcome by acceptance. And of course, everything he had done and was doing and saying supported all of those stories fully, thus keeping me in the victim, sad, pathetic state of not being loved, being betrayed, being hurt and lied to, and there is a factual reality to it, beyond just the stories that it is indeed playing out in this way.
The notable thing that is hard to acknowledge is that if I had not reacted to this stimulus at all, I could have stayed in bliss and not wasted the last few days feeling bad about the way I've behaved, and/or caring about his choices. If I had just not reacted or responded in any way to what I had known would happen far before I knew it had happened, we'd be able to have a nice chat any old time. Now, however, it is really and truly done. The last bridge, for both of us, has been burned and there is no going back probably even to a friendship.
"Great work," the villans say to me, patting me on the back laughing as I cry tears of regret and sorrow for my relapse.
Speaking with my therapist today, she reminded me, "Your reaction was your way out, and in some way it was a loving thing you did because you want to be free and your little girl, adolescent self is there agreeing to compromise over and over when that's not really what you want." She's right on some level. That nice little girl who just wants love at any cost and tends to accept mistreatment and disrespect as OK and has compromised pretty much every part of me has had her day. I have allowed and been "cool" with too much and now my Queen is stirring and saying, "NO MORE!"
He is who he is, does what he does, and I can't change that, but to sit back and act like it's all good and continue to allow myself to be drawn into his little game of cat and mouse is not happening anymore. I counted today, and it's an embarrassing number of times I've danced this dance of working on my own ability to accept this part of him in order to not lose his love. I don't want to or need to accept it anymore. I will not and can not accept it anymore.
One step forward, one step back, and one step forward again! I will arrive back in bliss, and with much more vigilance on who enters this temple and sphere.
