Someone Was Here

Inukshuk on the coast in Eastern Passage, Canada

Where were you?

Ah yes, selfishly tucked away somewhere trying to bury the guilt wrestling your soul. Too dependent to leave, not strong enough to stay.

The ultimate battle.

It wasn’t that I asked for help, it wasn’t that I told you I needed you.  That would have been a different story.  In fact, it was you that announced you were coming to help me, wanted to be here for me, support me, love me.  It was you who made phone calls to ensure people knew you were compassionate, caring and ready to take action.

All to save your own face.

The guilt wasn’t that you weren’t here to help me. The guilt was that you were worried people were judging you, questioning your decisions, your loyalty.

The reality, of course, is that you should have been here.

You should have been the one to lead me through the darkness, help me redefine myself and help me to function within the confines of anxiety and panic.

Yes, it should have been you.

But it wasn’t.

It was a select few of my dearest friends and family who guided me through this storm, wiped my tears and gave me the strength to persevere.  It was this small group of warriors who came together to check on me every day, offer their time and calm me in a panic.

Someone was here, but it wasn’t you.

Each day that passes, my mindset improves, my confidence grows.

I should have known you wouldn’t be here. I suppose that’s why I didn’t ask.

Your actions were driven by your need to look good to others; so terribly selfish and yet, not surprising.

Your insecurity is difficult to hide, dependency unparalleled.

As I write this, I can’t help but think what will happen if you read it.

It suddenly occurs to me that I don’t care.

I can sleep at night with the choices I have made.

Can you?

© The Flip of the Switch, February 2016.

Crossroads

Sad wife after divorce holding a wedding ring

Listen.
To my voice.
To my pain.

Look me in the eye.
Glimpse upon my soul.
The struggle is irrefutable.

How can you dismiss it?

How can you blame me for the circumstances?

I don’t know how or why, but you do.
You said it; you put the blame on me without blinking an eye.
It was easy for you.  Too easy.

Perhaps it is your own insecurity bubbling to the surface or your inability to show compassion and loving kindness. Perhaps this scares you, because you do not know how to respond, how to show emotion, how to be supportive, how to be or feel anything.

When did you lose your feelings, the kismet, the love for me; for us?
When did your career become more important than family; marriage?

Why does everything have to be about you?
About your needs, your wants and your time?
What’s the plan, what’s the plan, you shout from the rooftops.

I am an inconvenience, a curveball that has been thrown into your rhythmic life.
Our marriage is an annoyance and frustration that no longer aligns with your interests. It cannot compete with your yearning for financial success and your drive to get to the top of the corporate ladder.

Competing interests, and I am losing; our marriage is losing.

We are standing at a crossroad, you and I.

It is time to make some decisions.  It is time to take responsibility.  It is time to admit our shortcomings, accept our roles in getting to this point and decide whether we are in this together.  We can be a united team or a defeated statistic.

Which path are you going to take?

 

© The Flip of the Switch, January 2016.

The Disillusion of Compassion

shutterstock_143680249

How is it that we think we know someone, really know someone, but they turn out to be nothing you thought they were.

It is interesting that when one is going through a rough patch; a rocky road; a tumultuous time, that the people we think will support us, be there for us and comfort us are in fact, some of the biggest contributors to our stress.  They further perpetuate the feeling of instability and vulnerability.

I have someone in my life that fits this bill.

It makes me sad.  I am overwhelmed with grief.  It makes me feel physically ill.  I am disappointed.

This person increases my stress level, increases my anxiety, increases my panic and they make me angry.

Angry they just couldn’t be the person I thought they would be.  Disappointed they do not possess the character I thought they did.  Irate that they continue to put their head in the sand and pretend like nothing is wrong;  they are oblivious to my reality;  to their reality.

I am angry at myself for thinking they held such regal character;  for thinking they were compassionate, loving, caring, considerate and supportive.  How did I miss this?  Was it an illusion?  Did this person ever truly possess the character traits that I hold dearest to me?  That we value as a society?

I am truly fortunate to have a vast network of support.  My family and friends are everything to me.  They are always there; willing to help any way they can.  I am blessed.

But you.  You.  I am disappointed in you.  I expected you to be my pillar of strength.  My knight in shining armour.  My safety net.  My best friend.  You have let me down.  You are either a supporter or a stressor;  you cannot be both. And you.  You.  You are a stressor.  You have made your choice.

No matter what you do, whatever choices you make, I cannot control you.

Indeed, you are not the person I thought you were.  Thought you could be. Thought you would be. But there is nothing I can do about that.  I cannot change you.  I cannot mould you into something you are not.  You won’t change.  Even when I beg and cry for support.  Call out to you in an effort to lean on you; you are not there.

You are everywhere, yet nowhere.

The disillusion of compassion.

Compassion for oneself, compassion for others.

You do not possess compassion and I don’t know who I feel more sorry for;  me or you.

You.  I feel sorry for you.  For I am strong and I will fight my way through this.  I am important and I have goals to reach and dreams to catch.  But you.  What do you have?

Your relationships are in shambles.  Almost all of them.  You have family ties that are complicated, poisonous, bitter and full of heartache.  You care for no one, yet argue that you care for everyone.  You have tried to convince yourself for so long that you possess this illustrious character.  That you are a role model for others to emulate.

You are wrong.

Disillusion of self.

Disillusion of reality.

Yes, it is you I feel sorry for.

In the end, I will get through this.  I will prevail.

I live life with compassion, love, kindness and consideration.  I help others, try to ease any burden they are shouldering.  I care deeply about people’s happiness and well being, including my own.

I don’t need you.

I just need me.

 

© The Flip of the Switch, January 2016.