I Work Alone
I have to say, it was a lot harder than I expected it to be. But I did everything my counselor asked me to do, and I prayed, and I kept trying, and I've actually had quite a bit of success. I kept thinking of that song, "...the worms crawl in and the worms crawl out..." Many of my "worms" have crawled out. But the ones that remain are the largest. And they don't want to crawl anywhere.
I've been trying to understand my impulse to sabotage friendships with people who REALLY know me. I think part of the problem is that I still, on some level, view myself as "unwholesome". It's interesting to me that I can forgive myself of past transgressions, but I can't forgive myself for being abused. Maybe because there's really nothing to forgive, but inside me, I feel that there must be something. Maybe "forgive" is semantically wrong. I'm not sure. But I DO know that something inside me still blames me for being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person--and for staying there.
So I try this scenario: Would I blame my daughter if she were caught in a similar trap? Of course not!! I would cry with her, hold her, assure her of her importance to me and my love for her. I would do everything in my power to restore her sense of safety--to protect her. Can I do this for myself??? What can I do?? How do I make it stop hurting? I just don't understand...
I think the bottom line is that I feel I let myself down.
Maybe that's the key. Maybe that's why I so desperately want to run from any friendship in which someone really knows me. I think I'm having an epiphany. This "running" thing only happens in situations where I perceive myself as a support. I can act in the supportive role as long as my own life is unknown. As soon as that changes, as soon as the friend knows about my personal past, I assume he/she will feel the same feelings about it that I do. I assume that the feelings of blame will occur, that the friend will feel that I'm unreliable--I couldn't even protect myself!! And I think that I'm afraid, deep inside, that I can't measure up, as a friend. I allowed myself to stay in a destructive, abusive situation--how can I be relied upon if my friend needs help. Will I also let him/her down?
Okay, I know that nothing in that paragraph really makes sense. Except, in a weird, twisted way, to me it makes all the sense in the world. If I put it into my current situation with David, suddenly I understand why I keep trying to run away from him. I entered this friendship as a "strong" person--one who had felt feelings similar to his, but had managed to make a pretty wonderful life for myself while staying true to my belief system. As time went on, my strength deteriorated while I dealt with my past, and coped with things that I'd buried. At this point, David knows about most of my weaknesses--and I think I'm waiting for him to realize that just as I let myself down, it's only a matter of time before somehow, someway, I'll let him down. And I have to get away from him before that happens.
So those are my FEELINGS. But the reality is that I DON'T let people down, but I'm afraid I will, and that fear has started consuming me. So I'm fighting that fear, fighting the impulse to run away from my friendships, and fighting to maintain the level of closeness and intimacy I've achieved with Darrin, and I'm getting really tired. I think it's time to stop fighting. And I need some guidance as to how I'm going to make all those big "worms" inside me crawl out.
Christ says: "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." That sounds good. I certainly feel that I've been laboring, and that my load is heavy. I'd love some rest. He continues: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls." Well, I've spent much of my life learning about Christ. I love him with all my heart and soul. So maybe I need to take all that I've learned and apply it.
Christ surrounded himself with friends. He was helpful, sociable, compassionate. He loved children. He threw huge dinner parties at a moment's notice, and no one went away hungry. He told stories that taught lessons. He loved his mother. He treated women with equality and respect in spite of a society that considered them second-rate citizens. He gave service to others. In spite of the fact, or maybe because of the fact that his Father was God, his last act of service to the friends he loved, was to wash their feet. He atoned for my sins. There is nothing that I have felt or will feel that he does not understand. He can help me heal. He loves me.
"For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." I think I'm ready to trade my burden in. I think I'm ready to stop agonizing over things I cannot change without Christ's help. I think I'm ready to let my soul rest, because I'm really, really tired.