This past weekend (it’s Sunday here in NZ) has been really difficult for me. There have been a lot of tears and a lot of swearing, from one who doesn’t generally swear much. I think it would be reasonable to say I am entitled to do some mud-slinging on account of what another person has put me through lately. I’m not going to.
[So that you’re not completely in the dark, a number of you follow my ex-boyfriend’s blog and yesterday he posted some rather startling (well, to me anyway) news on his blog. That, combined with some other matters I can’t go into, led to a great deal of upset for me.]
What does mud-slinging really achieve though? Nothing really. Maybe a brief moment of satisfaction, but not enough to make it worth it. I’m not really a mud-slinging type either. I might feel it inside and maybe sometimes it would be better expressed. But only when it is expressed safely, for both me and anyone who might be in the way.
One of the difficulties I have faced is that I haven’t been treated with that all important kindness and compassion. Should I say the kindness and compassion which is crucial to me in how I relate to others. Mud-slinging would not meet my criteria of kindness and compassion, so that even though it might seem justified, I’m not going there.
I’m hurt, but I can find peace for myself eventually simply in the way I choose to react. So one step at a time, I’m going to patch up my wounds and move on. No, it’s not that easy. I’m human too. But it is my choice.
Interestingly (and painfully) while all this was happening yesterday I had another painful exchange with a family member who told me that my teenage behaviour some 30+ years ago had scarred their life ever since. I was already feeling pretty overloaded with emotion, although this person was not aware of what else was going on for me.
To be fair I was probably the worst behaved of the three teenagers in the family, but I wasn’t a ‘bad kid’. There was nothing extreme. I was just me and was probably starting to show my Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) tendencies, which wouldn’t be diagnosed for another 25+ years. I was simply a little difficult to communicate with unless I felt totally accepted by the person communicating.
30 plus years on and I have been told what I always suspected. The way this person is today is apparently my fault. Luckily this is something that I had already been through in therapy (because I suspected the person felt that way), so I was able to distance myself from this blame. I am not responsible for the actions of another person, even if I was a slightly difficult teen. And let’s be real. That was so long ago.
This all relates to the other things happening in my life this week, where I have been blamed for another’s behaviour/actions. It’s interesting how we can so easily blame another for our behaviours, and while this would have crippled me in the past, I’m not letting it.
I’ll be straight with you, and I apologise to those who find it difficult reading. A few weeks back I spoke in Flawed… Or Perfectly Formed about how chronic suicidal thoughts tend to crop up for me anytime anything goes bad. So yes, this past week I have struggled to see any hope and thoughts of suicide came up and hit me square in the face. Yes, for a bit it seemed like the best option right now and I was scared of the track I appeared to be heading on. I wanted my Dad because we had a type of password agreement between us in which if I couldn’t find any other words to say how I was, I could indicate just how bad things were by this means. Dad, of course is no longer here, having died over two years ago. And there was no one to reach out to in this manner.
What eventually shifted my thoughts was the number of readers who follow my blog who have lost a family member to suicide. Those readers helped me (without knowing it) to shift my thinking away from destruction. Their pain (from where I’m sitting) managed to shift the block for me.
I go on. I move on from the hurt of this week. There are some wounds that need healing but for that little girl (L) who is like my guardian angel ( see Disappointed In Me) , I keep on going one step at a time. Thank you to my dear friends who have also helped me to do that just by being there (often across cyber space).
My friend Ruby, shared this music link with me after I included another version of the song some time back. I’m sharing it today because the wording is slightly different from most Beatles versions. This one includes the words ‘there will be no sorrow‘. I’m not sure what The Beatles meant by this slight change but I like to think that when we learn to always treat people with kindness and compassion, that ‘there will be no more sorrow‘. This is my hope. Thanks Ruby.
“You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
- Flawed… Or Perfectly Formed (infinitesadnessorhope.wordpress.com)
- Disappointed In Me (infinitesadnessorhope.wordpress.com)