A Bruised Heart

My heart is heavy and bruised a bit.
I have been hurt by those I love and I am having a hard time processing it.
Things were said, emotions flowed. I am blaming myself, because that is what I do.
I am raw. I have been over-analysing  and reliving the conversations.

The past couple of weeks have been difficult.  I few different situations, involving different loved ones, have collided at the same time. I feel like pieces of my heart have been torn out little by little and I am weak.

Today, I got yet another tongue lashing.
Really? 
You have no ideal. 
My shoes you have not walked. 
My path is not yours. 
Things are not always what they seem.
How dare you assume you can have this discussion with me?
I walked away, but, in tears.  Maybe it is me. Maybe, I am a bit of a fuck up.

I am searching for answers. And for solutions. My Therapist has given me wonderful coping skills that I am applying (which seems to be part of which some loved ones are resisting. They like me better as a doormat). I am grateful I got to see her this week. God is hearing much from me as well.  My prayers & conversations with Him are long winded, and I am trying to listen to what He is telling me I should do. It is only the tenth of January and I have already made it to three churches. Dear friend to vent with is valued and adored. (What would I do without her?). I have a ton to write but feel the censorship thus I think I will put these thoughts in my private Blog.  I am perplexed...


Today, it's just me, the dogs & cats. My daughters went back to the University over the weekend. Hubby is out of town on business. I know it crushed him to hear of today's little encounter. He wants to comfort, he wants to protect. He wishes I went with him on this trip. We needed it, and it is a brief one. But, who'd take care of my spoiled pooches & Puss'? My dogs don't like everyone, they are spoiled and want me to care for them. People are scared of them. People are also afraid of one of the cats. I wouldn't use a kennel, nor can I afford one (I have 6 pets). The girls, dang it, they are back in Muncie... too far to help with my mutts. It's yet another thing that is MY FAULT, imagine that? I should have trained them better so we could have neighbor kids help like we use to with prior pets.

I'm sitting here with my first glass of wine. I'm about to indulge on some Mac N Cheese. I think I am tossing the notion of cleaning my carpets and getting the house spotless aside, and engrossing myself in comfort foods. So, I am not even going to peek at the calorie & fat content that I am going to consume this late afternoon /evening... I will blame the extra pounds on those that have been cruel, although we all know that in reality it is, of course, like everything else, my fault.

Always My Fault

When ever something doesn't go according to plan, it seems to be my fault. Seriously, my whole life I can recall either being told it's my fault or feeling as though it was.

As a child, I had a lot going on. The short of it is our family was dysfunctional. I remember thinking it was my fault when ever my parents fought. When I was 9 and my Dad attempted suicide. When my friends couldn't get along. My daily "beatings" as Jamie would put it, when he beat me up every day for a year 6th grade. When my family didn't get along. When I couldn't get a boyfriend. Etc. You get the picture.

As an adult, somehow that guilt thing followed me. I am 46 and still feel responsible for things going wrong. My loving family doesn't help. They tend to blame me as well. The girls get there smart mouth from me (ha ha!). The house isn't clean (guilty). The dog makes a mess. Something is missing. Dinners, or lack of them. Anytime somebody does something that someone else doesn't approve or understand in this household, my fault. My Dad's fourth attempt of suicide (remember from previous Suicide Blog), he even called to tell me it was my fault in case he suceed and couldn't tell me later (no wonder I am f*cked up). Money issues. Mailing in things. Scheduling appointments. Etc.

I think you get it.

I am so tired. I am mentally exahusted from the worry and words and the expectaions. I just want to throw my hands in the air and scream F*ck It!

When will I learn to relax and be calm? When will I learn to teach others that they are responsible for their own actions? When will I know my best is good enough and the world going to Hell is not my fault?

I want to be that person.