sae
07-31-2015, 12:26 AM
Dealt with a spot of stress, had a little breakdown, and feeling like I have taken a few steps back.
I am often hell-bent on not wallowing in self pity. It does me no good to lament my misfortune, yet sometimes it seems like life has a good old time kicking me in my giant pasty ass. It has been a recurring theme over the course of the last 15 years that those closest to me seem to bring the greatest strife. Perhaps one of my greatest assets turns into my Achilles' Heel, that being that I will always do what i feel is the right thing no matter how uncomfortable I am made in the process. I have no real method of emotional self preservation outside of isolation. It makes me easy to manipulate, easy to fool, yet I am well intelligent enough to see it occurring too. It comes down to establishing boundaries with others. This, i believe, is where I am at a great disadvantage.
I approach the world with the logic that all people will ultimately act in the best interests of those around them, as I try valiantly to do myself. As I learn and grow, however, I find that this is often not the case. I am confused, befuddled by the inherently self-centric nature of people. To set certain boundaries, to say "No, I won't clean up your mess, do it yourself" flies in the face of a moral core I seem unable to deviate from. Finding myself unable to establish boundaries and tear myself away from this obsession with altruism, I often fill up with bullshit, retreat into the confines of somewhere quiet and solitary, and regroup.
This cycle is exhausting, frustrating, depressing. I think the only way to break away from it is to re-write my moral core, yet I am certain abridging it would also re-write my purpose as well. At the end of the day, no matter how awful the world seems to be, I can find myself at peace at least knowing I have done everything I can with both grace and civility.
Yesterday I visited my late husband's mother for her birthday. I drove almost two hours without A/C in 101 degree weather, carefully adjusting a grandiose bouquet of red roses each time I hit a bump. I arrived, soaked in sweat, out of breath, clutching the slightly wilted roses and I rang the bell. I stood outside her door for nearly 20 minutes before she finally answered. She scowled at the flowers, remarked on my unkempt appearance yet I kept smiling. I knew during our lunch she would ultimately bring up her son and my role in his taking his own life. I left our lunch feeling down-right broken, exhausted, a heaviness in my chest as my douchebag heart struggled to keep up with the oppressive heat. Why do i keep doing this to myself? I asked aloud. The answer, of course, was because no one else will. I was the only visitor she would receive on her birthday. My wilted flowers and budget lunch would be the only gifts she would be given.
Sometimes I think my isolation is the only way I can cope with a world that seems to out of sync with my own idealogies. I don't fear being hurt. I have been hurt enough that it seems to bother me less and less each time. It is the manner in which it repeats that I struggle with. I ultimately turn inward, wondering if being surrounded by self-centric sorts is something I just plain deserve. The answer, logically, is no. I have far too much love and respect for myself to believe I deserve such a thing.
I will break out of this cycle of isolation once my moral core and setting boundaries with others can play nice. The trouble is getting there. How does one set boundaries with other people without abandoning altruism when it seems the idea of altruism is something long faded from others' memory?
I am often hell-bent on not wallowing in self pity. It does me no good to lament my misfortune, yet sometimes it seems like life has a good old time kicking me in my giant pasty ass. It has been a recurring theme over the course of the last 15 years that those closest to me seem to bring the greatest strife. Perhaps one of my greatest assets turns into my Achilles' Heel, that being that I will always do what i feel is the right thing no matter how uncomfortable I am made in the process. I have no real method of emotional self preservation outside of isolation. It makes me easy to manipulate, easy to fool, yet I am well intelligent enough to see it occurring too. It comes down to establishing boundaries with others. This, i believe, is where I am at a great disadvantage.
I approach the world with the logic that all people will ultimately act in the best interests of those around them, as I try valiantly to do myself. As I learn and grow, however, I find that this is often not the case. I am confused, befuddled by the inherently self-centric nature of people. To set certain boundaries, to say "No, I won't clean up your mess, do it yourself" flies in the face of a moral core I seem unable to deviate from. Finding myself unable to establish boundaries and tear myself away from this obsession with altruism, I often fill up with bullshit, retreat into the confines of somewhere quiet and solitary, and regroup.
This cycle is exhausting, frustrating, depressing. I think the only way to break away from it is to re-write my moral core, yet I am certain abridging it would also re-write my purpose as well. At the end of the day, no matter how awful the world seems to be, I can find myself at peace at least knowing I have done everything I can with both grace and civility.
Yesterday I visited my late husband's mother for her birthday. I drove almost two hours without A/C in 101 degree weather, carefully adjusting a grandiose bouquet of red roses each time I hit a bump. I arrived, soaked in sweat, out of breath, clutching the slightly wilted roses and I rang the bell. I stood outside her door for nearly 20 minutes before she finally answered. She scowled at the flowers, remarked on my unkempt appearance yet I kept smiling. I knew during our lunch she would ultimately bring up her son and my role in his taking his own life. I left our lunch feeling down-right broken, exhausted, a heaviness in my chest as my douchebag heart struggled to keep up with the oppressive heat. Why do i keep doing this to myself? I asked aloud. The answer, of course, was because no one else will. I was the only visitor she would receive on her birthday. My wilted flowers and budget lunch would be the only gifts she would be given.
Sometimes I think my isolation is the only way I can cope with a world that seems to out of sync with my own idealogies. I don't fear being hurt. I have been hurt enough that it seems to bother me less and less each time. It is the manner in which it repeats that I struggle with. I ultimately turn inward, wondering if being surrounded by self-centric sorts is something I just plain deserve. The answer, logically, is no. I have far too much love and respect for myself to believe I deserve such a thing.
I will break out of this cycle of isolation once my moral core and setting boundaries with others can play nice. The trouble is getting there. How does one set boundaries with other people without abandoning altruism when it seems the idea of altruism is something long faded from others' memory?