I don’t know why the thought of going no contact is so hard. I hardly have contact with them as it is; they prefer that I call them, but I don’t have much to say, so I only call if it’s a birthday, someone is recovering from being sick, or I have NEWS. Other than that, there’s no reason to talk to them every day, or even once a week.
So why am I waffling over it?
One: it feels like desertion of the highest order to just walk away from all of it. I can’t change them, no, but maybe that’s not what I’m supposed to learn here. Maybe I’m supposed to learn how to keep going no matter what obstacles are in the way.
Two, I feel guilty for even considering it. They’re family, right? No matter how bad family is, you’re supposed to keep some kind of communication open with them, not just decide to walk off the field.
And then there’s this: what if I end up needing them? What if I end up needing something from them and the first thing they say is “Well, you wouldn’t talk to us for X amount of time, so sucks to be you.” ?
But then I think about this:
Let’s say I don’t do this. Let’s say that I keep letting this go and it gets worse. I don’t know what would be worse right now, but insert whatever your favorite worst-case scenario happens to be. The worst happens and I end up basically telling all of them where they can stick it in the screamiest blow-up in the history of blow-ups. I don’t think I’d feel good about having my last words to them forever be something horrid, or about the fact that in order to gain what I wanted I had to hurt them.
Sigh. I just don’t know. This is a really hard choice.
Simply put, I have issues with it.
A live example: I’ve got a cold or flu coming on. I hate being sick, and I’m doing all I can to head it off and keep the suffering down. There’s a part of me that’s asking what the point of all of it is, though. Nobody cares if I’m sick. Nobody cares if I sink into oblivion here.
I know that’s not true, I really do. It’s part of the issue with self-care.
I have problems with eating well and making sure I get proper rest. Not that I don’t want to do these things, but again, my first thought when I tell myself to have some breakfast or to head to sleep is “For what? Nobody cares.” I’m working on it, and it is a little better.
I don’t know if this is something which beginnings I can source in childhood, though that’s what everything I’ve read on the subject says. It’s something to look at.
I just got off the phone with the Keeper of the Holograms. It appears the inevitable has happened, and they’ve put the house up for “sale”. I can only say thank you God, that I’m not there to deal with the chaos that’s happening to them right now. And additional thanks to God that I was nudged to move my stuff out of there.
She was very calm about it. She says she has no idea where they will go but that “God will help us”. Okay. I believe God will help, but that doesn’t mean you sit on your butt and do nothing.
Sigh. I hope it works out for them.
Right now I hurt. Not physically; thankfully that feeling of yuck has gone for the most part. But my heart hurts, it’s like my soul is aching. I’m trying to maintain for LtGP and CT’s sake–there’s no need to broadcast my feelings when there’s nothing they can do.
I’ve been dreaming about my childhood lately. I don’t like thinking about it, but I guess the choice is out of my hands right now. I don’t know why I should feel pain over things that are over and done. They happened; I survived it. This is good. Why feel pain now?
Shouldn’t I move to forgiveness? Isn’t that what we are supposed to do when somebody wrongs us? What is the point of opening up all those doors, of feeling all the things I felt then?
A part of me thinks that I should have done something. I should have been able to find a way to make it stop. I’m smart, right? It’s the only valuable thing I have, and that was true then too. I should have used my brain to find a way to make it all stop. Or just ran away, like my story-girls used to.
The worst part of all this is that I feel totally alone. Okay, I know that we’re pretty much alone while we process our stuff because nobody but us can process it, but this feels like total isolation. I’ve been told by more than one person that I don’t have to do this by myself, but I feel guilty for tapping my friends constantly. They have lives to live and their own stuff to handle. Isn’t the mark of an adult the ability to shoulder your stuff and soldier on without help? I don’t know what kind of use I can be to anyone if I have to stop every five feet and beg for help. I feel guilty that I can’t seem to push myself through this and go on to the next thing.
I hate being in flux. Yes, I know it’s neccessary to get from point A to point B, but the interim really sucks.
I feel like I don’t know where to place my feet. Everything is falling, nothing is constant. I used to have a rock-hard base to stand on inside myself, but now that’s gone, too. I don’t know who this person is, not deep down where it counts.
I feel like I’m failing at rebuilding. All I see around me is waste. Yeah, to build anything you start with destruction, but there’s no order to this; it’s just random chaos.
I wish I knew what I’m doing wrong here. Why is nothing moving forward? Why am I stuck here in this spot? Maybe I’m missing something. Maybe I’m just a big fat failure and I’m in denial about that.
The whole world is moving forward, and I’m just on the sidelines, watching and whining.