Knocked out.

I've been told by numerous books, friends, and even my therapist... "Thinking positively will help you feel better."  Heaven help me, I swear I've been trying.  Maybe I'm not trying hard enough.  I try to not foist responsibility for my own actions onto other people, so I'm really taking this whole, "think positive" command to heart.  But how can you change what you think, when what you think is so directly linked to what happens to you?

Case and point... I can be cruising along, listening to positive, upbeat music, planning a nourishing meal, not focusing on the absence of the kids from my weekend, and trying to find joy in the small things... and then someone I love comes along, does something that makes me feel completely unwanted and useless... and wham.  There I am.  Back on the mat, feeling like I've been emotionally body-slammed.

I have two choices.  I know I can distance myself from the people who hurt me continually.  Or I can not distance myself and keep taking the pain that they dish out on a regular basis.  But my dilemma is that I am not remotely strong or capable enough at this moment to take on the world alone.  I need... well... someone on my side.  Unfortunately, I seem to have been less than smart in selecting the someones to surround myself with.  And I'm left with either being surrounded by a bunch of someones who continually hurt me, or being completely alone.  I'm not sure I can survive either possibility at this point.

I've asked these people -- who profess to love me -- to stop hurting me.  I've pointed out as gently as possible which actions of theirs cause the most damage to me.  I've been sure to let them know that it's my current fragile state that has me asking for their assistance, not anything in their basic nature that I can't tolerate.  I've tried to make it clear that I just need their help for a little while.  Could they please, please just walk on eggshells around me for a few months?  Could they please go the extra mile, just for a little while?  Because I think, maybe, I could get myself out of this pit without help... if only everyone else would stop knocking me back into it.

Is it selfish to want the people who love me to sacrifice some of their comforts for the short term?  Is it wrong to hope that those people will hear the message I'm desperately trying to convey?  Should I not ask for help?  I know if I don't ask, then my needs will never be communicated.  And then I'll have nobody to blame but myself if things fall apart.  But... I guess I really have nobody to blame but myself anyway. Because I can't be strong enough to walk away from what hurts me, I have to accept being kicked when the people around me choose to kick.

I'm spending so much time praying for strength... for help... for peace.  It's impossible to feel like my prayers are being heard or considered, much less answered.  I'm too stubborn to submit to the idea that God WANTS me to suffer like this.  I readily accept that there is value in suffering, but there is a point where it is just going to break me.  And if God wants me to break... then I'm not sure I can be on board with His plan.  Because, I have two little people who need me to NOT be broken.  If it was just me... if I only needed to be sane and functioning for myself... well, then God could do whatever He wanted with me.  But it isn't just me.  I have two innocent, perfect, amazing little people who are blissfully unaware of how precarious our situation is, and who are depending on me to keep them in the dark.  I want to protect their childhood.  I need to protect them.  I can't protect myself from the cruelty of this world, but I'll be damned if I can't do at least some insulating for them.  They deserve it. 

I feel like such a failure.  I've surrounded myself with people who step on me to push themselves up.  I can't survive on my own.  I can't walk away.  But staying where I am is killing me.  Something in this situation has got to give.  I just wish I could shake the feeling that the "something" about to give is ME.

Who the heck would want to read about me?

I keep having this urge to blog.  And then, when I sit down to write something... it feels so self-involved.  Who am I to think I'm important enough that someone would want to read what i have to say? 

I think, however, that's kind-of the point.  Who am I?  I mean, really, who am I?  Some days, I have absolutely no idea.  At times, I look around and I see the world flying past me at a million miles an hour, and I think how little of it I'm actually absorbing.  And then, at other times, I'd swear the entire weight of it was sitting squarely between my shoulders.  I seem to be carrying the world around an awful lot these days.  The real question, of course, is where am I taking it?

Sometimes, I look at the beautiful faces of my children and I wonder how the hell I'm supposed to keep them from... well... ending up like me.  How can I teach them to be strong in ways that I'm weak?  How can I teach them what I cannot comprehend?  It terrifies me. I don't ever want them to feel adrift and lonely, existing in this perpetually-gray fog that I reside in. 

And then, one of them does or says something so completely wise... And I understand.  Perhaps, I am not meant to be the teacher.  Perhaps, instead, I am meant to learn from the perfection that resides within their precious, little souls. 

It is a humbling thought, but a good one.